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Twice Across the Plains 

1849 . . . 1856 



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BY 



W. J. PLEASANTS 



1906 

PRESS OF WALTER N. BRUNT CO. 

609 MISSION STREET. 

SAN FRANCISCO. 



ei 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Two Cooies Received 

MAR 19 1906 

^ CMyrisrht Entry 



^ 



COPYHIGHTKD 1906 

By \V. J. Pleasants 




W. J. PLEASANTS. 



\ 



To the niemorv of my noble father, my com- 
panion in every privation and pleasure, tliifc 
little volume is dedieated. 



CONTENTS, 



History of the Pleasants Family 11 

J- E. Pleasants 1»> 

Preparing for the Journey 1~ 

J. Al. Pleasants • • 20 

The Start from the Lone EI n '2<) 

Epidemic of Cholera 28 

The Burial of John Lane ^>2 

Death of Julius Wright :'..') 

Death of William Hensley :'.7 

Protecting Ourselves from the Indians 42 

The Crossing of the South PI i tie 4 1- 

The Black Hills Country 4? 

The French Trapper 4S 

Fording Laramie Fork ;')•") 

Devil's Gate ^^» 

The Rocky Mountains (iO 

Captain Hamilton and th.e Sioux LKliins <)2 

The South Pass <">4 

1"he Great Divide '>•"> 

The Desert Country <>■> 

Thousand Spring Valley ~'> 

The Humholdt River To 

Starting on the Oregon Trail SO 

Death of the Pet Oxen s:^ 

Camping at AFud Lake 85 

Reaching Sacramento Valley 80 



Death of Mr. David Myers. Sr SO 

Snow Storm in the Deer Creek Country SS 

Deatli of Mr. WiUiam Afassey S!) 

Arrival at IJid well's Bar <)2 

Death of Jerry Overstreet \)?> 

Indians Steal our Cattle 95 

Death of Tom Fristo 90 

Digging for Gold at South Fork 09 

The :\J en of '49 101 

Attack of Outlaw Joaquin ATurietta 103 

Journey Down the Sacramento Valley 10.5 

Returning to Missouri 108 

The Arrival 1 09 

Starting for California 1 13 

Lost in the Darkness 115 

Cheyenne Indian Warriors 117 

The Buffalo Chase 122 

The Mirage 127 

Fort Laramie 131 

Sweetwater Creek 1 32 

A ^ylysterious Warning 135 

The Indian Attack on the Humholdt 140 

^Meeting my Father on the Bank of the Hum- 
holdt 141 

Crossing of the Humboldt Desert 14S 

Sierra Nevada Mountains 151 

Arrival at Sacramento River 153 

The Train of 1S49 155 

Tile 1'rain of 1X50 157 



PEEFACE. 

This little voluiiu', a chronick' of events in the 
life of the writer during two trips across the 
plains to C'alif(n'nia in IS-t';) and 18o(), while in 
tl;e glamor of his earlv niaidiood. is a truthful 
narrative of his experiences, told in the simplest 
language at his comnumd, and with a strict 
avoidance of anything pertaining to exaggera- 
tion or distortion. 

"THE AUTHOK/' 
rieasants" A'ailey. Sept. U, 1UU5. 



TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 

CHAPTER 1. 

For the ^^ako of tho;^e of my own hlood wlio 
mav soiiu' day read tho^e pages, it might l)e well 
in the heginning to refer brieliy to the fonn.la- 
tion of our family in America. 

Its history on these shores commences with 
the early setclement of the State of Virginia, 
when, in the year KiliS, one John Pleasants, a 
(Quaker, came over from Norwich, England, and 
located at ''(hirles," a little town on the James 
Eiver, not far from wliere the City of Rich- 
mond now stands. 

To trac the family name through the suc- 
cessive generations of that early period would 
require much spaci', and therefore he an in- 
justice to the general reader; hence I will 
omit the data liearing thereon and l)egin again 
at the year 18()!i, at which tinu' Edward Pleas- 
ants, my grandfjither, emigrated with his fam- 
ilv from (iooehland cininty. \"irginia. to Lin- 
coln county, Kentucky. 



1S41) — TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 

It was Jieri' that my father, James ^I. IMeas- 
anls was Ixn'ii on the '^^th (Uiy of April, 1801). 
August 8, 1833, he was united in marriage to 
Afiss Lydia ^lason, and two years hiter. l)eing 
desii'oiis of going furtlier West, lie moved to 
Missouri, where he loeateil. Here in the peaee- 
ful pursuits of a farmer, he reai'ed his family. 

Jn January, 1849, the news of the discovery 
of gold in California reached Western Mis- 
souri, where our home was and spread with 
great ra])idity throughout tlie entire region 
and soon nothing else was talked of in country 
or in town. Farmers, merchants, mechanics, law- 
yers, and even ministers of the gospel, fascinated 
by the wonderful stories of vast wealth uncov- 
ered hy the miner's pick in the far-off land 
l)ordering on the miglity Pacific, shared in the 
general excitement, and so much interest was 
manifested in the subject of emigration to that 
distant region that the (pu'stion now was, not 
who would go to California, but, rather, who 
would stay at home. 



12 



18^9 TWICE ACROSS THE TLAINS 185() 

Some, however, from the very beginning, 
argued that it was foolish and foolhardy to leave 
a prosperous community in order to embark 
upon a venture that was not only dangerous in 
the extreme, Init was at best doubtful of re- 
sults and lial)le to prove in the end disastrous 
to all concerned. And, indeed, it did take 
courage to tear one's self away from a happy 
hoane, the delightful society of relatives and 
friends, and plunge into the depths of a vast, 
almost unknown wilderness, roamed by savage 
wild beasts and still more savage men. Now 
and then, too, there would drift in from that 
distant region tales of desperate attacks on 
lonely caravans and of the ruthless slaughter 
of men, women and little innocent children by 
the hordes of hostile Indians that infested the 
wild lands lying between the outposts of civi- 
lization and the far away land of gold. 

After the first wave of wild excitement and 
enthusiasm had died away and men had time to 
reflect a season on the perils of such an under- 



13 



18-19 TWICE ACROSS THE I'LAIXS 185G 

taking, and could in a measure realize the hard- 
ships necessarily incident to a prolonged jour- 
ney through a country without roads or other 
appurtenances of civilization, many of those 
who had heen among the first to volunteer for 
the trip rid themselves of the outfits already 
purchased and signified their intention to re- 
main at home. 

But the more adventurous spirits, those whose 
names were afterwards linked im])erishal)ly 
with the history of progress and vigor and 
manhood of the West, were only too anxious 
to encounter and grapple with the dangers lurk- 
ing everywhere along the lonely trail leading to 
the distant land of promise. 

My father, then in the full strength of his 
manhood, positive and daring in his nature, and 
with an ahiding faith in the future greatness 
of the vast empire stretching out in limitless 
grandeur towards the West, had long heen pos- 
sessed of a desire to turn away from the con- 
jested district where we then lived, and he 



14 



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J. E. PLEASANTS. 



184!> — TWIC1-: At'iJOSH THE plains — 1856 

among the first to seek a home and found an 
estate somewhere beyond the houmhu'ies of the 
Kooky Mountains. 

My mother had passed away, leaving hiui 
with six ehiidren, and with the family tie thus 
broken and the news from C^alifornia eoming. 
as it did at this time, just a few months after 
our terrible bereavement, my father determined 
to carry out his long cherished plans and at once 
began his })reparations for the journey west- 
ward, lie had two good light wagons that he 
had made with his own hands, which were well 
adapted for a trip across the plains. Two 
friends, good, strong men, John and David 
Burris, volunteered to accompany him. These, 
with my father. James M. Pleasants; my 
brother, J. E. Pleasants; and myself nuide u}) 
the five that composed our party. Our outht. 
altogether, consisted of the two wagons, live 
yoke of good well-broken work oxen, one saddle 
mule, suthcient clothing to last ns eighteen 
months, for that was the length of time we ex- 



17 



l8iU TWICE ACKOSS THE I'LAIXS 185G 

pected to l)e gone, and a six months' supply of 
provisions, principally l)ac-on, flour, sugar and 
coffee. Actual experience afterwards taught 
us that we had made a mistake in not having 
witli us more dried fruit, rice and Ijeans. Each 
of us was armed with a good gun and there 
were several jiistols also in the party. To pro- 
vide against rainy days our wagons were cov- 
ered with lu'avy rain-jjroof canvas, stretched 
on hows. Altogether we did our l)est to pro- 
vide everything necessary for so serious an 
undertaking, hut after all our studied fore- 
thought in regard to the matter, the result was 
far from perfect, hut this realization came too 
late to remedy. While we were thus hending 
every energy to hasten the preparations for our 
departure, scores of others were doing the same, 
for, of course, our little outfit was to he one of 
many that would go to make up a large cara- 
van, handed together for C()in])auy and mutual 
protection. 

It was at this time, when we were almost 



18 











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J. M. PLEASANTS. 



184!)- 



TWICI 



ACIJOSS THE IM.AIXS 



-1856 



readv to gather at the starting point that the 
weak-kneed ones l)ega]i to falter, and. indeed, 
it was not a })leasant [)ieture to eonjure up. tliis 
two-thousand-niile journey over desohite wind- 
swept phiins. liigh sii(>w-ea})ped mountains, 
burning, waterless deserts, deep rivers to swim. 
treaeherous quicksands, and, more terrible than 
all else, the deadly ritle and keen scalping knife 
of the lurking savage. 

It took courage to face all these, and, at last, 
when the day to start did arrive and the long 
v\'agon train moved slowly away in the path 
of the setting sun, leaving mothers, wives, sis- 
ters and sweethearts and civilization behind, 
there was not one single coward accompanying 
it. 

It was on the sixth day of May, 184!). at D 
o'clock A. ^L, that our little jnirty started away 
from the beautiful town of Pleasant Hill in 
Cass county, Missouri, bound for the T.one l^lm. 
the ])lace agreed upon as the rendezvous IV)r all 
those who had enlisted for the expedition. On 



21 



1<S4J) TWICE ACKOSS TllK i'LAINS 185() 

til is Ix'autiful ^lav inornino-, when all nature 
seemed in her loveliest mood, we solemly bade 
good-by to friends and loved ones and drew away 
iiist as the villao'e sehool hell was tollino". 

The Lone Elm, for whieh we now headed, 
was a solitary tree standing far out in the wide 
prairie, some fifty miks from the nearest settle- 
ment, and we were al)out two days in reaehiug 
it. At this point, when all had been aecounted 
for, we proceeded to organize and elect officers. 
James Hamilton was chosen captain and Joliii 
Lane, wagon-master. Written regulations for 
the government of the expedition were drawn 
up and adopted, and then with hearts filled 
with high ho])es for the future, on^^ hundred 
and twenty souls, all told, with grim detei'- 
mination, set their faces against the West and 
moved slowly along over the fiower-l)espangle(l 
prairie. There were but few women in the 
party and only four hoys, two of the latter be- 
ing my brother and myself. All these people 
hailed from the western C(uiuties of ^riss(niri 



22 



1849— TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS —1856 

with the exception of a limittd numl)er. who had 
come from other portions of the country in or- 
der to join our company. The total numher of 
wagons comprising tlie train was thirty-three. 

Just here I will say that the main ohject in 
view with nearly all of us on this expedition, 
was to dig gold, and wc really expected to oh- 
tain from that source within a few months suf- 
ficient riches to return home independent. But 
some of those among us had friends who were 
already in California. A hrother of :\Ir. Lyons 
was at Vacaville; William Hopper had a cousin, 
Charles Hopper, living in Napa Valley, near 
Yountville. These gentlemen may have had 
other things in view, but as 1 have before stated, 
with the majority of us it was simply to enrich 
ourselves in the gold fields that we went 
to California, though of course a love of ad- 
venture and exploration in a new country, fas- 
cinating themes to most men, may have great- 
ly influenced us also. Our ex])ectations along 
these latter lines were in the end fully realized, 



23 



184!) TWKJ-: ACKUSS THE PLAINS — 185G 

Init the eollcetion of wcaltli that wc had dreamed 
of jiever materialized, though a few, just seven, 
1 helieve, did sueeeed in riaehiiig the five thou- 
sand dolhir mark and over in the diggings. One 
could find gold almost anywhere, hut to lind it 
in paving ([uautities was another ([uestion. But 
it is my intention to dwell more fully on tliis 
subject further on. 

We will now return to the Lone Elm, that 
giant sentinel standing on the outskirts of 
civilization. Jlere, awaiting the signal to begin 
that memorable journey througli the wilderness, 
stood the little band of devoted men and women. 
This day meant much to them. Would a kindly 
fate smile and bring them weal or a frowning 
destiny hll their lives with woe. Who could 
tell? Finally, all being ready for the start, 
John Lane, the master of trans])ortation, gave 
the word. One after another the wagons fell 
into line and soon in a sti-aight string over half 
a mile in length the Pleasant Hill Train, so 
named in memory of the town that bade us 



24 




THE START FRO:\[ THE EOXE EL^l. 



1840 TWICE ACUOSS THE PLAINS — 185G 

Godspeed when we dei)arted from it, moved 
slowly westward aeross the traekless })rairie. 

During the tirst few davs out the weather was 
delightfully ealm and Ijeautiful, the atmos- 
phere pure and exhilarating, and the spirits of 
all our eouipany eorrespondingly cheerful. With 
an ahundanee of good feed for our stock, the 
luxuriant prairie grass l)eing from eight to 
twelve inches high, and the whole landscape, 
as far as the eye could reach in every direction, 
hearing the appearance of a rich meadow, every- 
thing did, indeed, seem propitious and the 
future full of promise. But how little we can 
reck of the morrow. At that very moment there 
was lying concealed in our midst a grim mon- 
ster, only awaiting a favoral)le opportunity to 
seize upon and cut down without a moment's 
warning some of the Ijravest and noblest of our 
little band. 

Since 1848 a terrible ej)idemic of cholera had 
been raging in the States of the I^nion. claim- 
inii" its victims bv the thousands, but we nat- 



27 



1.S41) — rwici-: ackuss the plains — 1856 

urally supposcil that being so far away from 
the busy haunts of p.iin. and the noisome in- 
fluences of over-er()\v(]ed cities, living clean 
lives, our own hearts close to the great heart of 
nature and healing in unison with it, that we 
would be beyond the reach of the destroyer. But 
from this dream there must soon come a rude 
awakening. Witliin a few days we were to feel 
the sharpness of the monster's sting and leave 
in its merciless gi-asp comrades tluit we had 
learned to love and honor. 

From five to fifteen miles is the varying rec- 
ord of (mr (hiily traveh The distance made is, 
of course, de])endent on nuniy things; whether 
the ground ]iap])t'ns to be soft or firm, the coun- 
try hilly or hveh And the crossing of water 
courses is a mighty factor in the matter. Occa- 
sionally there are h)w Hat })laces where the soil 
is so miry, hours are consumed in going a short 
distance. During the bitter half o\' ^lay anc^ 
the early (biys of June, there is muc-n cloudy, 
rainy weather, makinu' travel verv difficult, the 



18 1!) TWICE ACKU88 THE I'LAiXS 18o(5 

swollen streams being among the worst features 
to overcome. In passing through that section 
of country that is now the State of Kansas, we 
met with a great many Indians lielonging to 
different tribes, Init they were invarialily friend- 
ly and gave us no trouble. In fact, more than 
once we found them valual)le allies when it be- 
came necessary to cross some of the larger 
streams. Our stock could l)e made to swim to 
the other side, l)ut the wagons must be ferried 
over. So, procuring from our savage friends 
about eiglit canoes, we would lash them firmly 
together, side l)y side, and then across the whole 
lay strong poles aljout one foot apart. These 
were fastened securely to the canoes with inch- 
wide buffah) thongs, and with this hastily im- 
provised structure the wagons would l)e safely 
ferried across the widest and most turbulent 
streams. The Kansas River, then called the 
Kaw and the North Platte, were both crossed 
in this nuinner. 

Our train was now some two hundred miles 



29 



18 10 TWICE ACIJOSS THE PLAINS 1856 

away from its startiiiii- point. Buffalo and anto- 
lopo could be seen l)v the thousands. ]\Iany of my 
comrades were ohl hunters and unerring shots 
with the riiie, henee the camp was always Avell 
su])plied with fresh l)uffah) hump, antelope 
steak, and now and tlien for a change buffalo 
marrow bone wouhl be served. These were 
great times for the younger sportsmen. The 
duty of driving wagons every other day de- 
volved upon them. ])ut their leisure moments 
were spent in tlie cluise, and their share in the 
exciting sport was l)y no means limited. And 
now, just here in the midst of these pleasures, 
occurred an event that cast a pall of gloom over 
all our company. At about 2 o'clock one after- 
noon John Lane, our wagon-master, a man who. 
by the splendid attributes of his character, had 
greatly endeared himself to all those who ac- 
companied the expedition, was suddenly strick- 
en with cholera. The train was immediately 
brought to a standstill, wagons corralled, oxen 
unvoked and turned out to o'raze and everv 



30 




THE BURIAL OF JOHN LAXE. 



1S40- 



TWICK A(i{()SS TlIK PLATXS 



-1S5>; 



c'lTort made to relieve the siek man. All the 
simple remedies known to ns were applied, Init 
tliese endeavors came to naught, for our friend 
grew gradually worse aiul after suffering in- 
tensely, died in the middle of the forenoon next 
day. Being entirely without those articles 
usually employed in such eases we prepared his 
Ixxly for hurial hy simply wra|)ping about it the 
nicest blanket we possessed and then laid him to 
rest on the north bank of a beautiful river, 
known as the Little Blue. Erecting above his 
grave head and foot l)oards l)earing a suitable 
inscription, we turned sorrowfully away from 
the lonely mound, leaving our friend to the 
care of Him who said, ^'Lo, even in the midst 
of the valley and the shadow of death T am with 
vou.'-' 



33 



CHAPTER II. 

TIktc was little joy among U8 as the journcv 
that had bccii so sadly interrupted was re- 
sumed. Knowing now that we carried with us 
the fatal germs of cholera, and too familiar 
with the history of the dread disease to l)elieve 
that it would l)e satisfied with a single victim 
and would henceforth leave us in peace, each in- 
dividual among us wondered in his own mind 
who would he the next unfortunate. And the 
question did not long remain unanswered. 

The beautiful weather that had l)een favoring 
us for <ome time was now a thing of 
the past, and it rained almost continu- 
ously. Another case of cholera now de- 
veloped, followed l)y still others. We 
fought the enemy hard and were successful in 
effecting cures in three-fourths of the cases, but 
found it impossible to save all, and Julius 
Wright, a most estimable young man, the only 
son of a poor widow, succumbed to the disease. 



35 



184!) TWICE At'UOSS THE PLAINS 185G 

Hi;? mother had ciK-ouragvd him when he had 
ex|)rt\s.sed a desire to take tlie trip to California. 
l)elieving in her hning heart that it would re- 
dound to his l)enefit, and this was the end of 
tile dream. His hist thoughts were of lier, and 
the sweet message he left for the poor woman 
must have heen as halm to her hleeding heart. 
We have now reached the south hank of the 
Platte Kiver. All the streams are greatly 
swollen from the heavy rains which still con- 
tinue almost uninterruptedly; the mud is deep 
and traveling very difficult. There is an 
ahundance of fine feed for our stock, however, 
which is some compensation for the troubles 
that so continuously harass us. The Platte 
River Valley is al)out one mile wide, low and 
level, and covered with a rank <>-ro\vth of o-rasses. 
In order to find a suital)le cam})ing place for 
the night, we pull away from the trail and di- 
rect our course towards a spot some half a mile 
distant. Several of our party, among whom 
was William Hensley, an exceedingly lively, 



36 



1841) — TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS 1856 

jo\'Jal, good-natured fellow, were walking along 
together toward the point mentioned, when he 
laughingly said, "Boys, this would be a dread- 
ful plaee to l)e buried in. I should hate to die 
and 1)0 laid away in this low, muddy fiat." 
Somehow the remark struck us as being sig- 
nificant, for we could not help living in con- 
stant dread of that terrible unseen foe that was 
dogging our footsteps across the continent and 
would not be shaken off. Poor Hensley was the 
next victim. At about 8 o'clock that evening 
he was seized with the awful cramping that is 
the initial stage of the disease, and after suffer- 
ing all night in fearful agony, died at 8 o'clock 
the next morning, and he was buried in that 
same muddy valley. And so tlie irony of fate 
decreed that the i)rogram, the mere thought of 
which a few hours before had occasioned him 
the greatest horror, should be carried out to the 
very letter. Unnerved and discouraged by the 
death of their friend, Hensley's messmates, 
Middleton Storv and Emanuel, a nearo, con- 



37 



1841) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1856 

eluded to secede from the eom})any and retura 
to their homes, now aljout six hundred mile^ 
away. We argued and plead with the two men 
for an hour or two in our endeavors to dissuade 
theui from risking so hazardous an undertak- 
ing, for it seemed to us that it was far nu)re 
dangerous for so small a party to go l)aek than 
it was for all to go forward, Ijut they refused to 
reconsider their determination and return home : 
so, bidding them good-by, we pushed on, leav- 
ing their lone wagon standing, still surrounded 
by a few faithful friends, yet pleading with 
tliem to remain. Finally the negro, laying the 
wliip in Story's hand, said : "Mid, do as you 
please, but no matter what your decision may 
be, remember 1 am with you. If you return, I 
will go back also; stay, and you will still find 
me by your side.'' Story gave the off ox a 
sharp blow with tlie whip and the two animals, 
anxious to rejoin the herd that had so long 
been their constant companions, swung into 
line as they had done so often before, and our 



38 



18-1:9 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1856 

two comrades were once more lieaded for Cali- 
fornia, and irom tliat time on nntil we reached 
our j(Hirney*s end swerved neither to the right 
nor k'ft. l)ut kept their eyes towards the setting 
sun, and foHowed where it led until they saw 
it sink to rest in the mighty waters of the Pa- 
cific Ocean. 

Tlie weather is once more clear and beautiful 
and the liealtli of our people much improved 
as our train winds up the south side of tlie 
Platte Piver. whicli at this point is about one 
mile wide. The current is swift and the water 
cold and muddy. Very shallow, it can be ford- 
ed almost anywhere, provided one keeps moving 
after havino- once entered the stream. If while 
crossing, a wagon is ])rought to a standstill, the 
swift current washes the sand from underneath 
the wheels and causes it to sink so quickly that 
a very limited stop may cause the loss of a valu- 
able wagon and cargo. 

The country lying south of the Platte, with 
its ta])le lands and low rollina' hills, is a favor- 



39 



1849 TWICE ACROSS TTIE PLAINS — 1856 

ite feeding ground of the Iniffalo. Here they 
may he seen in eonntless tliousands peacefully 
oTazino". In aoino- to tlie river for water these 
animals seem to move in a straight line, one 
after the other, like an army of men on the 
march. Migrating from tlie far South, where 
they have passed the winter, the vast herds 
move slowly towards the distant river to 
quench their thirst in its sweet waters. The 
first one leaves a slightly marked trail, another 
naturally follows this, and a tnird cuts it a little 
deeper still, until finally the hundreds and 
mayhe thousands that have passed that way have 
left a straight, narrow, sunken path, several 
inches perhaps ])elow the natural surface. Tlien 
the rain comes. The land having a gentle in- 
cline towards the river, the water flows down 
these little ditches, carrying with it the loose 
trampled soil at the hottom, leaving guUys 
from three to six inches in depth. These are 
three or four feet apart, extend far hack towards 
the u])lands, and are a feature of the land ly- 



40 



1849 TAVICE A("K0.S8 THE PLAINS iSoO 

ing contiguous to the river for miles up and 
down the stream. Sometimes we are com- 
pelled to travel long distances along this un- 
even surface and the incidental and continuous 
bumping and jolting of the wagons is disa- 
greeable in the extreme. 

Since the good-bv to civilization on that beau- 
tiful morning in May last, though nuinv trou- 
bles have beset our pathway and we have drunk 
of the bitter dregs of misfortune, the expedi- 
tion has much to 1)0 thankful for. The cattle 
and other stock that started with us are still in 
good condition and doing excellent service, 
which is no small item when one stops to con- 
sider the terrible consequences that might re- 
sult should the men and women of our party 
be suddenly deprived of the means of transpor- 
tation here in the midst of the vast wilderness. 
It would not be possiljle to proceed on foot and 
carry with us a su|)ply of food and other nec- 
essaries sullicient to complete the journey. At 
all hazards the great mountain ranues Ivino- to 



41 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 

the westward must Ije crossed l)efore the snow 
tlies, otherwise our situation would be pitiful 
indeed. Hence all along, being thoroughly 
alive to these dangerous possibilities, we have 
from the very beginning taken every precaution 
to safeguard these vital interests. If during the 
day we lay by for any purpose, our oxen, on 
being unyoked, are immediately taken in charge 
by two men, who stay with and watch them 
closely to see that they do not scatter or are 
not stampeded by Indians or other causes. After 
darkness sets in, these are relieved Ijy four fresh 
men, wdio remain until the hour of nine, when 
four others take their places until midnight, 
and this routine continues while darkness lasts. 
So there is not a moment of the day or night 
wdien our animals are not under the strictest 
surveillance. 

Continuing up the south side of the Platte 
for a week or two, we pass the point where the 
North Platte empties into it on the north side. 
About twentv or thirtv miles above the iunc- 



42 



]<S4r> TWICl': ACROSS THE I'LAINS ISoG 

tioii of thcso two streams 'I'hoinas ^loorc died 
of tlio chok'ra. 

Just here we make preparations to cross to 
tlie other side. Tliis looks to l)e a dittieult un- 
dertaking-, for the water is nearly if not quite 
one mile wide. First men on horsel)ack are sent 
across to gauge the depth of the channel and 
choose a route that presents the least ditficulties 
in the way of our crossing. These matters be- 
ing settled to our satisfaction, we raise all 
goods as iiigh up as possil)le in the wagons to 
keep them dry, and l)egin the passage with one 
horseman in front to guide the teams and two 
on either side to see that they are kept in place 
and continue moving. ^lucli time is consumed 
in making this |)ortage, l)ut linally, barring a 
few slight accidents, all are safe on the other 
side. 

There is one more cholei'a victim here — an 
old man named Kearns. Wo lies buried on a 
bUilT north of the river. 

Since our start and u]) to the ])resent time 

45 . 



1(S41) TWICE ACROSS TILE PLAINS 185G 

our course has hein a little north of a due west 
line. The general charaeter of the country has 
been low^ roiling ridges and table lands; the 
soil, rich, black and covered thielvly with nutri- 
tious grasses. There has been no timber to 
speak of except along the streams and tliat only 
a scrubby kind of cottonwood and willow. 

Wood for campfires has at times been unob- 
tainable, but usually we have had a small quan- 
tity of dry wood with us, earried for just such 
emergencies from some previous camping 
grounds where there was an abundance. If in 
a portion of the country where there was dan- 
ger to be apprehended from Indians, we have 
avoided stopping for the night near streams 
where there was timber and brush, not caring to 
take any chances along those lines. Frequently, 
however, when there was every indication that 
we would be free from molestation, we would 
seek the littk' creeks for our bivouacs, for along 
these there is always more or less l)rushwood, 
good materia] for small fires. Our people had 



46 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1856 

just crossed over the South Platte River when 
I digressed for a moment to speak of the gen- 
eral topography of the country through which 
the expedition had traveled up to date. I will 
now resume the thread of my narrative. 

Leaving the river at this point of crossing 
we move in a northwesterly direction through 
a rolling hill-country and after making fifty 
miles or so reach the Xorth Platte, a fine stream 
ahout, I should judge, four hundred and fifty 
yards hroad. Deep, swift and icy cold, its wa- 
ters are dangerous, hut we cross it without seri- 
ous mishap, many of us swimming it over and 
over again while engaged in rendering assist- 
ance to the teams and wagons. 

Following up this stream, our course lying 
parallel with it, we travel for several days 
sometimes quite near its hanks and then again 
miles away. This is the Black Hills country, 
destined in tlie far future to l)e a wonderful 
gol d - ]) r du c i ng r egi on . 

And now listen: It is noon, and while stop- 



47 



1.S41) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 

ping for a brief interval to re;^t and Ijreathe our 
cattle, we are hailed by a man garbed in the dress 
of a frontiersman, fully armed and speaking 
with a broken accent. He boldly approaches 
our train and after questioning us closely con- 
cerning our pilgrimage, destination, etc., does 
not hesitate in turn to fully set forth the rea- 
sons for his own presence in this secluded lo- 
cality. A French Canadian, he claims that his 
occupation is that of a trapper. In age, some- 
where near thirty years, wiry in build, quiek 
and elastic in his movements, he is a splendid 
type of the class of men roaming the wilds of 
the great West in the interests of that giant 
organization known to the world as the Hudson 
Bay Fur C^ompany. This stranger is friendly 
and confiding, his manners agreeable and his 
personality rather unusually attractive. ''Why 
undertake the hazardous journey to California 
in quest of gold,'' said he, ''when right here in 
these hills, almost within a stone's throw of 
where you are now standing, and to be had al- 



48 




THE FRENCH TRAPPER. 



1841) TWICE ACi;08S TliK PLAINS — 185G 

most for the asking, is vii-gin gold in quantities 
that wouhl stagger the dreams of avarice. 
Squaws in the Indian villages l)evond the river 
dig it in quantities and shape it into rude orna- 
ments for their own personal adornment. 11' 
you doul)t these asseriions of a stranger follow 
where 1 lead and verify with your own eyes 
the truth of my statements.'' 

Althougli our interest is wonderfully aroused 
hy his story, we are chary of trusting this man. 
His occu^^ation is that of a trapper, and traps 
are sometimes set for men as well as for beasts. 
And it behooves us to be wary, for in these da3s 
there are rife startling stories, told around tlie 
campfires in the gloaming, of little bands of 
emigrants while wending their way along the 
lonely trails, lulled into fancied security by a 
long season of peaceful surroundings, relaxing 
for a time the seemingly useless stern vigilance 
so long practiced that it had grown irksome, be- 
ing enticed by the fasc-inating story of some 
plausible stranger, into a deadly and)ush, the 

51 



lS4y — Twici-: ACKoss THE plains — IcSoG 

fortunate ojics slain, while the iiiifortunates, 
those made ea})ti\e, are led away to be put to a 
lingering death h\ every spueies of torture that 
a devilish ingenuity eould suggest. Tortures, 
the details of whieh eannot ])e put inlo pnnt> 
but so horrible in their eruelty that eould they 
be given to the reader it would almost freeze 
the very blood in his veins. 

But gold seeking was our business and \ve 
finally coneluded to investigate the trapper's 
story. With this end in view;, Captain Hamil- 
ton gave orders for the train to lay by for a 
day or two, and the next morning ten men^ well 
armed and mounted, set out, guided by our 
trapper friend. A eold rain was falling and as 
the river had to be crossed to reach the Indian 
village lying on its northern side^ the men, not 
relishing a swim in the icy waters in such 
weather, aljandoned the undertaking and re- 
turned to camp. This ck)sed the incident. l)ut 
it afterwai'ds occurred to nu' that the man wa.- 
sincere in his intentions and triitlifid in his 



52 



1840 TWICE ACROSS TflE PLAINS — IRofi 

stoi'}-, for since that time these same Blaek 
Hills have added many millions of dollars to 
the world's supply of the precious metal. 



53 



CHAPTER III. 

We are again on the move. The country 
gradually becomes more l)roken and hilly. Higli 
mountain peaks loom uj) in the distance, the 
nights grow colder, grass less plentiful and 
good camping places hard to find. Laramie 
Fork is the next stream we meet with. It is 
swift, clear, cold and about twenty yards wide 
at -the point where we forded it. Here is situ- 
ated Fort Laramie, where a garrison is stationed 
to keep the Indians in check and protect emi- 
grants. After several days travel up the south 
bank of the Xorth Platte we cross over to the 
other side. This crossing was the most dihicult 
and dangerous and we consumed more time in 
making it than any similar event yet encoun- 
tered. A crude ferryboat constructed of Indian 
canoes, in the manner })reviously described in 
this narrative, was the means by which we 
reached the opposite shore. It was a slow pro- 
cess and we were two days in completing it. 

55 



1819 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185(3 

This boat was the |)r()})erty of a trapper, was 
propelled with oars and paddles and but one 
wagon eould be carried at a time. The river 
was about three hundred yards wide and so 
swift was the current it was necessary to pull 
or tow the miserable craft two or three hundred 
yards up the stream before starting, and then 
it would land about the same distance down 
stream on the opposite side. If I remember 
rightly we paid five dollars each for the ferry- 
ing over of the wagons. The cattle were made 
to swim across^ an operation l)oth tiresome and 
dangerous to the men who had charge of it, 
and requiring patience and skill also. A man 
on horseback would ride into the stream and 
the cattle were driven in immediately after 
him. For a time they would follow him in 
good order, maybe cover fifty or a hundred 
yards, and then, being partially ])linded 1)y the 
reflection of the sun in the water or for 
some other cause, they would turn from 
the straight course previously pursued and 



56 



l<S4r) — TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1S5() 

begin to swim in a eirelo. The men on 
horses who were l)e]iin(l driving them would 
frequently get caught in the midst of this 
struggling mass of heads and horns, their 
efforts powerless to prevent the wliole herd 
from finally returning to the same side 
from whieli they had recently departed, sonu^ 
landing maybe a ludf mile below the starting 
]3oint. This monotonous proceeding was re- 
peated many times before we finally had the 
satisfaction of seeing all of them on the opposite 
shore. 

Here, after conferring together on the sub- 
ject, we conclude to divide our company into 
three divisions or separate trains, not because 
of any ill feeling or misunderstanding among 
us, hut for the simple reason that we have now 
reaclu'd a section of country where stock feed 
is becoming scarcer all the time and our cattle 
losing flesh and strength, and the smaller the 
number of cattle tlie farther tlu^ feed will go. 
So we part com]iany. About due west is now 



57 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185t) 

our course, and ere long we are among the sage 
briisli, where we find good dry grass along the 
streams. For some days more our train is fol- 
lowing up tlie shore of the North Platte, and 
during this time we cross several small streams 
running from the Xortli and emptying into 
the main or larger river. One of these tribu- 
taries is known as Grease Creek, named evi- 
dently from the great quantity of grease wood 
hrusli growing along its banks. This peculiar 
growtb will l)urn as if covered with grease, hence 
its name. 

It is quite evident we are now out of the 
ranges of the ])uffalo. I do not recall ever hav- 
ing seen a single one after crossing the North 
Platte. But antelope are very numerous and 
bhick tail deer plentiful enough in the quaking 
as|) timber growing about the heads of small 
streams. There are many grouse and numbers 
of a s])ecies of prairie chicken. We pull away 
from the Xortli Platte along in the latter part 
of July and pass Independence Pock, so named 



58 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 185G 

by 'John V. Fremont, who celebrated the FourTh 
of July, 184(1, at that point. This huge rock, 
which is forty or tifty feet high, is an interest- 
ing landmark, standing, as it does, with none 
of its kind al)Out it. 1 clindjed u}) onto its top 
and wrote my name there. 

A few miles west of Independence Rock 
flows the Sweetwater, a stream two hundred 
miles or more in length, but shallow and easily 
forded anywhere. This river flows through a 
wonderful canyon, known as the DeviFs Gate. 
It is a narrow gorge, only about sixty feet wide, 
and probably three miles in length. The walls 
on either side are of solid rock, about three 
hundred feet high and perpendicular. Stand- 
ing at the bottom and looking upward, the 
crevice at the top, owing to its distance from 
the observer, seems so narrow that a num could 
easily leap across it, and it would appear a cer- 
tain antelope thought so. too, for I found the 
body of one lying dead on the rocks at the bot- 
tom, liaving evidently fallen from the very top. 



59 



1.S45) TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS 1856 

A liuiiiaii I)eing would find it impossil)le to go 
tlirough thi^i canvon on account of the rough 
character of its interior, and it is likely that 
no one hut the sli])perv gentleman in whose 
honor it was named ever succeeded in making 
the tri}) alive. But there is no authentic rec- 
ord in existence showing that even he ever at- 
temj^ted it. We followed up the Sweetwater 
until we had traversed its entire length. It took 
us ahout twentv-live days to do this, and noth- 
ing worth mentioning occurred during that 
time. Tlie weather is now dry and heautiful 
and the health of our people good. On or ahout 
the fifteenth day of August we are at the sum- 
]nit of the Rocky Mountains, that l)ackhone of 
the American continent. Since leaving the 
Lone Elm, our starting })oint. some ninety days 
ago, our course has heen up hill ; not noticeahle, 
of course, the greater part of the way, so grad- 
ual has heen the incline, hut up hill just the 
same. In all this time no word from home 
has reached us, neither luis there heen an op- 



60 



l<S4i) TWICE ACKOSS Till-: PLAINS 185() 

portunity for us to send a message back, hence 
the anxiety of our loved ones must l)e ex- 
treme. They know that a hundred dangers 
threaten us to one that tlireatens them. Each 
morning they arise with the ho})e that the day 
may bring from out of the great silent wilder- 
ness some word, some reassuring message con- 
cerning us. But the days lengthen into weeks 
and weeks into months, and still that awful si- 
lence and uncertainty, and ho}3e deferred that 
nniketh the heart sick. 

Up to date we have lost by death altogether 
five comrades, four from cholera and one, Mr. 
David Rice, died of fever. We have seen thou- 
sands of Indians, traded ponies with them, and 
exchanged flashy red blankets for buffalo robes, 
sometimes receivino- several oood i'ol)es for one 
blanket. C^aptain Hamilton In'ought with him 
two race horses. Wliile passing through the 
Sioux Indian country, these natives being good 
judges of horseflesh, were very anxious to get 
possession of them, offering six ])onies for one. 

61 



1840 TWICE ACE08S THE PLAINS 1850 

a licaiitirul soiTi'l. This being rofused, they 
f()lk)\ve(l in our wake for several days, still hop- 
ing to seeure the prize. Each morning they 
wonhl examine the racer more closely, and then 
seemingly having found some new and hereto- 
fore undiscovered point of merit in the animal, 
would raise their previous offer a pony or two, 
always without success. This was kept up for 
some days, when finally a whole herd of ponies 
was i)roffered, hut the ca})tain was obdurate, so 
the would-be traders departed in disgust. 

The Indians of the plains have many cus- 
toms that are strange to the white man, among 
these being their manner of disposing of their 
dead. Selecting a tall tree with spreading 
l)ranches, they lay along these small poles, 
wliich, ])eing securely fastened in their places, 
form a rude level platform. Tlie l)ody, after 
being \vrap})i'd in a l)uffalo robe, though some- 
times a blanket is used for tlie ])urpose, is laid 
at full length upon the structure. And then, 
in oi-der that the journey to the happy hunting 



62 




THE SOUTH PASS. 



1841* TWICE ACKOSS 'I'lIE PLAINS ISoG 

groiuitls may he made in coinfort^ a small ves- 
sel of water is placed upon the hreast of the 
departed brave and left there. This ends the 
ceremony. Sometimes several of these aerial 
graves may be seen in the same tree. Some of 
our l)oys climbed up to where these grewsome 
relics were deposited to view them more closely, 
but as for myself I was as close to them as 
I desired to be while standing on the ground. 

But from this retrospect we will return to our 
train, left standing on the summit of the Rocky 
Mountains. 

This range is sometimes called the Great 
Divide, for it divides the watersheds of the 
continent. East of it all the waters flow into 
the Atlantic Ocean ; west, they find their way 
into the Pacific. Where we now are the moun- 
tains are comparatively low, for this is the 
South Pass, one of the few points along the 
Eocky ^lountain system where it is possible for 
wagons to cross without encountering almost 
insurnumntable dilliculties. Xorth and South 



65 



1840 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAIXS IcS-^G 

of US as far as the eye can reach are the higher 
portions of the range, with great peaks here 
and there, many of them covered with perpetual 
snow. Viewed through the clear, exhilarating 
atmosphere of this high altitude the panorama 
spread out before us is wonderful and grand, and 
we are inspired with new hope and new zeal, as 
we realize our journey is half finished and over 
there where this water at our feet is flowing is 
California, the land of our dreams. With these 
pleasant thoughts uppermost in our minds, we 
make camp for awhile, just at noon, on the 
l)rink of a gigantic spring of ice water, known 
as the Pacific Spring, for its waters flowing 
westward empty themselves into the great ocean 
of that name. Our course from here is due 
west, through rolling hills, covered with sage 
brush. The soil of this section is poor and 
sandy. There is no timl)er along our line of 
travel, though far away on the higher eleva- 
tions we can see some. 

Within three days we are at Green river, 



66 



1849 — TWICE ACROSS thp: plains — l.SoH 

whose waters are very cold, coming as they do 
from the melting snows on the peaks. It is only 
ahout twenty yards wide, and being fordable, 
we are soon on the other side. Xext we climbed 
the Bear Edver monntains, a most difficnlt feat, 
as they are very steep and rough and Ijroken, but 
when at last the summit was gained, we saw far 
below one of the loveliest of landscapes, the 
beautiful Bear River valley. 

Lingering for a nu)nient to admire the su- 
perb picture lying thus spread out before us, 
we begin the descent. Here are to be seen the 
old trails used years before by emigrants bound 
for Oregon. It is said of these early travelers 
that they were compelled to use ropes in many 
places to let their wagons down into the val- 
ley, so rough and steep was the way, I)ut our 
party, steering clear of these old roadways, se- 
lected a new route and reached the bottom 
without having to resort to any sucli devices. 

About forty yards wide and very deep, the 
river here runs northwest, but further on turns 



67 



18-iO TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAINS 1850 

wost, then southwest, and finally empties it^ 
sparkling waters into the ({reat Salt Lake. 

For ahout eighty miles this stream runs 
through a beautiful vallev from one-half a 
mile to a mile in width, and we followed along 
its banks for that distanee. I cannot bid fare- 
well to this lovely vale without expressing my 
admiration for its many attractive features. The 
soil is rich, in fact the best we have seen since 
leaving the lower Platte, and throughout its en- 
tire length there was fine feed for our stock. 
Great fields of wild fiax of an excellent quality, 
the l)ushes ranging from three to five feet in 
height, were seen growing here and there, some- 
times as much as fifty acres in one body. Small 
game, such as grouse, abounded and fish were so 
plentiful in the river that many times we 
feasted upon them. There was something 
homelike about everything pertaining to this 
section, and it I'eminded nu' of the country 
where my eai'ly youth was nurtured. 

But I turn away with regret from this lovely 



68 



1845) TWICE ACK()88 THE PLAINS 1856 

scene, as yet untouched Ijy the vandal hand of 
civilization, feeling that tlie memory of its won- 
drous beauty would linger with me and grow 
more mellow with time as I journeyed slowly 
down the path of years. 



69 



CHAPTER IV. 

Our course now lav between old Fort Hall 
and Great Salt Lake, about an equal distance 
from each, through hills covered with sage 
brush. 'Tis a desert country that we are now 
in, and feed for our animals is so scarce that 
they begin to lose flesh rapidly. Owing to the 
loose sandy nature of the soil, the pulling is 
hard, and it is not possible to make much more 
than a snail's pace. 

As we proceed the general aspect of the coun- 
try becomes more and more forbidding, and we 
begin to anticipate trouble ahead, but there are 
no signs of discouragement to be seen among 
the members of the expedition. From the very 
beginning all have had a supreme confidence in 
our ability to reach the destination aimed at. 
What others had done we believed we could do, 
and so, making merry over the troul)les that so 
constantly beset our jiathway, we pursue in a 
cheerful mood the tenor of our wav. 



71 



3 841) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — IcSoij 

I wivsh to say here that if one desires to know 
the true nature of a man, the nature from which 
certain hard conditions will strip the mask of 
sham and pretension and lay l^are from under 
its false surface the individual as he really is, 
journey with him day after day for months in a 
lonely land teeming with difficulties that only 
patience and persevirance can overcome. JWatch 
his daily life that is no longer influenced by the 
artificial conditions and requirements of the 
vast network of society that he has left far be- 
hind him, his only associates now being the little 
handful of men and women who are subject to 
the same stern conditions that apply to him — 
and note the result. If he be brave and tender 
and true, it is not his own burning tliirst out 
there amid the hot sands of the desert that is 
urging him on in a frantic search for water. 
Oh, no; he can stand his own suffering yet for 
awhile, thank God, but the ])itiful cry of the 
])(>or fever-strieken woman in the wagon liack 

72 



1841) TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAIXS — 185G 

there at the rear end of the train is more than 
his manly heart ean bear. 

If he l)e a coward — oh, well, no need to dwell 
on his qualities ; the verv stones along the road- 
side know and recognize him as he passes hv. 
And so nncharitableness, selfishness, untruth- 
fulness, all in turn and in good season show 
their hideous heads if they exist in the individ- 
ual. Xo doulde life here, no pretension. A man 
is, simply, what he is, nothing more, nothing 
less. 

A few days more in a flat, sandy region brings 
us to a hilly section of country through which 
flows a stream called Goose Creek, a tributary of 
Snake River, which \vc follow for a day or two, 
then turn from it, Ijending our course toward 
the southwest, and presently reach Thousand 
S])ring valley, an uninviting spot lying flat and 
marshy between low hills. This valley is about 
<me-half a mile wide and several miles long, and 
takes its name from the great number of springs 
or overflowino- wells found within its borders. 



73 



1(S4I) — ■ TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS 1856 

many of them being as much as twenty feet in 
diameter, with no visible bottoms. The country 
through which we are now traveling is all in all 
the least attractive of any yet met with, being 
too poor for even Indians to live in. The larger 
wild game give it a wide berth, and nothing 
larger than a jack-rabbit will remain in a neigh- 
borhood that has so little to commend it. 

Another day's travel and we pause for awhile 
near the headwaters of the Humboldt river. 
Here are two large flowing springs of equal size 
and about twenty feet apart, the water of one is 
icy cold, that of the other boiling hot. 

The above-mentioned river has an extreme 
length of about three hundred miles, and its 
general course is southwesterly. It has some 
peculiar characteristics. At certain places along 
its course its fine volume of water disappears 
either entirely or dwindles to most insignifi- 
cant proportions, and tlien, further along the 
line, it again rises in its bed and once more as- 
sumes its former size. This occurs again and 



74 



IS-tt) TWICK ACIJOSS THE PLAINS 185G 

again, until finally, in a great sandy waste 
known as the Humboldt Sink, it vanishes from 
view and is seen no more. 

We follow along the river's banks a distance 
of probaldy two hundred miles, crossing many 
of its tributaries, sometimes finding an abund- 
ance of feed for the cattle, and then again be- 
ino- under the necessitv of driving them for 
miles back off from our road into the smaller 
valleys, where good grazing could usually be 
found. 

I have omitted to mention heretofore a cus- 
tom long in practice by us. For six or eight 
hundred miles feed in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of our line of travel has been more or less 
scarce, and at times entirely lacking. 

Such a state of affairs naturally created in 
our minds much anxiety, for on the condition 
of our draught animals depended the success of 
our undertaking; so in order that we might to 
a certain degree overcome this difVu-ulty. we 
adopted a system of selecting a certain number 



75 



1849 — TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185(3 

of men, usually two, on whom would devolve for 
a specified length of time the duty of finding 
suitable stoj^ping places for noon and night. 
These men, mounted and well armed, would 
ride together ahead of the train, select a spot for 
the noon stop aiul await our coming, that we 
might be apprised of the exact locality. On ar- 
riving, the teams would at once be uncoupled 
from the wagons and, with their yokes on, 
turned out to graze. To find a good camping 
place for the night was a much more difficult 
task. We were often compelled to go three, 
four and even five miles out of our way before 
such a spot could be found. You know, other 
trains taking this same route west had pre- 
ceded us, and the supply of feed, at no time 
very plentiful, had mnv hcc-ome pretty well ex- 
hausted. Jf near a river, our hunters would 
swim across and search for grass along the far- 
ther shore; and it liecame a common practice 
witli us to swim our animals over to the side 
opposite our cam]), wliere. ouarded l)v eight or 



76 



1849—^ TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAIXS — 185(5 

ten meii^ they would graze all night and then 
swim back in the morning. 

The reader of this narrative, if he follow ns 
closely, will see that although so far our ex- 
pedition has been allowed to go its wa}^ in peace, 
we have not in the slightest degree relaxed the 
stern vigilance adopted as a part of our daily 
life since first we crossed into the zone .of dan- 
ger. At night the wagons are so arranged as to 
form a corral, making an excellent fort in case 
of an attack by Indians. The method of pro- 
cedure was to place the wagons one after the 
other, end to front, as closely as possible in a 
continuous line in the form of a circle, but when 
such circle is less than half completed, a space 
of about twenty feet is left vacant, and then the 
line is continued on beyond this gap until a])- 
proaching the end. where the line was first be- 
gun, another open space like the first and oppo- 
site to it, is left. These openings or entrances 
are closed when necessary by stretching across 
them log chains securely fastened to the wagons 



n 



1S45) TWICE AC'lJOSS TILE PLAINS ISoG 

at either side. This enclosure was useful iii 
many ways. If any of our stock happened to l)e 
a little unruly and hard to catch, they could he 
driven into this arrangement and then he easily 
secured. 

But we will resume the narrative of our jour- 
ney down the Humboldt. At times the course 
we are pursuing brings us quite close to its 
banks, then again in making straight cuts from 
one bend of the river to another to save dis- 
tance, we would be miles away. One day near 
its waters we came to a beautiful valley several 
miles in extent. It was here seven years later 
that a party with whom I was making my sec- 
ond trip across the plains to California was at- 
tacked by Indians. But of this I will speak at 
length further on. 

As we travel on down the Huml)oldt tlie mat- 
ter of securing sustenance for our stock becomes 
a burning question. With each succeeding day 
grass becomes less plentiful and our animals in 
consequence have lost strength so steadily that 



78 



1849 TWICE ACK0S8 THE PLAINS 1856 

it is no longer possible to average more than 
ten miles per day. 

We are now about two hundred miles from 
the source of the river and have reached the 
parting of the ways. 

From here two separate trails lead to Cali- 
fornia, one by way of the Humboldt Sink and 
Carson river, known as the Carson Route, so 
named in honor of Kit Carson, the famous 
pathfinder. The other the old Oregon trail, 
both leading through great sandy deserts. 

Consulting a guide book in the possession of 
our party, we are told that in taking the former 
course it would be necessary to pass over an 
expanse of deep sand forty-five miles wide, and 
beyond that to cross a range of very high, rug- 
ged mountains. This was the route taken 
three years before by the ill-fated Don- 
ner party, whose terril)le experiences, when 
they became known, made the civilized world 
shudder. 



79 



18-1:9 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1850 

After duo consideration and much discussion 
regarding the merits and demerits of the two 
routes, we decided in favor of the Oregon trail 
— notwithstanding the disagreeable fact that 
directly in our pathway lay an almost waterless 
desert of loose, shifting sand ninety miles in 
breadth. But the die is cast, and so, finding 
near the river a spot where the supply of grass 
is fairly good, we lay by for three days in or- 
der that our stock may recuperate, and to care- 
fully prepare ourselves for the ordeal. We cut 
and tie into l)undles a large quantity of dry 
grass and store it in the wagons for use on the 
way. Finally, everything l)eing in readiness, 
we set out just at noon, going in a northwest- 
erly direction. All that afternoon and night 
our train crawled slowly on across this silent 
barren waste, and then, just as the day was 
breaking, we reached Eabbit S])rings. Here 
there was only a weak flow of water, but we 
managed to replenish our water casks and to 
give to each head of stock about one gallon. 



80 



1849 TWICE ACE08S THE PLAIXS — 1856 

Lino-erino- here l)iit a little while, we aojain 
pushed on. and tor another day and night stop- 
ped only now and then to rest and feed the 
cattle. 

At this time we came in sight of eight or ten 
giant springs, their rippling contents so clear 
and pellucid that small pebbles could be dis- 
tinctly seen lying on the gravelly bottoms some 
twenty feet down. But this sparkling water, as 
if to mock the thirst now almost consuming us, 
was boiling hot. 

Our cattle, almost maddened by the sight of 
the water, could hardly l)e restrained from rush- 
ing into the cauldrons, and one poor l)east did 
fall into the hot fluid. We dragged him from it 
with ropes, but he was so Ijadly scalded we in 
mercy killed him. 

Here we were com[)elled to leave several 
wagons, the teams that drew them having en- 
tirely given out. These were unyoked and left 
to die. A few of the wagons were cut asunder 
and made into carts. Quantities of flour and 



81 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185G 

bacon are abandoned and left l)y the roadside. 
We struggle on with what cattle and wagons 
are left, but the loose sand makes heavy pulling. 
The oxen stagger along at the rate of a mile an 
hour, frequently dropping down in their tracks 
completely exhausted. Allowing them to rest 
thus for a little while, we help them to their 
feet and urge them on. All of the afternoon of 
the last day we are in sight of Mud Lake, where 
good water and grass abound. If we can only 
get our animals that far, all will be well, but 
now many are so weak they cannot be urged to 
go farther. Men take empty kegs and, going 
forward on foot, bring back water to the poor 
famishing brutes and revive them. The stronger 
teams are in this way encouraged to creep on, 
and about sundown on the third day we are at 
the margin of the lake. In addition to the good 
water found, there is also an al)undance of fine 
green grass. We go l)ack and forth during the 
niglit, carrying these to the poor creatures that 
have so long and so faithfully served us, but 



82 



1,S4!) TWICK ACIJOSS TllK i'LAIXS iHoC) 

only a few can be revived and brought in. 
Among the cattle thus lotst was an old ox noted 
for his good sense. His owner, Sam C^aldwelL 
had always made quite a pet of him and the 
two were great friends. When this faithful 
beast at last sank down exhausted and dying of 
thirst, Sam took a cup of water from his almost 
empty keg and attempted to revive him, at the 
same time calling him lovingly by name. But, 
too far gone to recover, the poor animal, bend- 
ing his great, mournful eyes upon his master, 
lowed faintly in answer and expired. Sam 
turned sadly away, saying: ''Dear old fellow, 
sensible to the last." 

The crossing of this desert occupied over 
fifty hours. In the passage we lost nearly half 
of our wagons, many of our cattle, and were 
com})elled to abandon a large (piantity of pro- 
visions. 



83 



CHAPTER V. 

We remain in earn]) at ]\[n(] Lake for rest 
and reeiiperation, now so mneli needed by men 
and beasts. Tbe bitter are very poor in flesh 
and weak ; their strength must be husbanded, 
for it is a long way yet to our destination. 

From ]\Iud Lake it is only a few days' travel 
to the eastern l)ase of the Sierra, Xevada moun- 
tains, so k'avino- tbe Oregon trail, we go west, 
through a hilly country, to the foot of the 
Sierra range. 

Com])elled by the weak condition of our stock 
to move slowly, one whole day is consumed in 
reaching the summit, though tbe mountains, at 
this point, are neither high nor rough. 

Down the long slope on the west side, and on 
through a country heavily tind)ered witb pine 
trees, we find ourselves after several days' travel 
on the sliores of Goose Lake. From bere our 
course is south and southwest, and after travel- 
ing along Pitt river for a day or two. we at last 



85 



1841) — TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — LST)!) 

reach tlie Sacramento valley. For three days 
we rested on the l)anks of tlie tributary known 
as Deer Creek and here Mr. David Myers, Sr., 
died of mountain fever. 

The weather now l)ecame threatening and a 
snowstorm seemed imminent. Deer were seen 
in great numbers, evidently migrating from the 
higher to the lower altitudes for the winter. 
Such signs led us to believe that we had crossed 
the last of the great mountain ranges none too 
soon. 

The three days' stop here was especially wel- 
come to me inasmuch as I was just recovering; 
from a long spell of sickness. While on the 
summit of the Sierra Xevadas, I became seri- 
ously ill with mountain fever, ^ly father be- 
came much alarmed at my condition, and there 
being no physician with us, he sent a messen- 
ger for a Dr. Powell, who was with a train about 
ten miles ahead of our own. This gentlenum 
was soon at my Ix'dside in the \vag(ui and. after 
subjecting me to a careful examination, turned 



86 



1849 TWICK A(M{()SS THE PLAINS IS^G 

to my father and ^aid : "I do not Ijelie've it 
possible tliat bis life can be saved, but I will 
do my l)est/' Giving nie some treatment, he 
prepared to rejoin his own party, saying it was 
useless for him to stay with me during the night, 
as I could not live until morning. But my 
father's pleadings finally won, and he remained. 

The morning came and found me better, and 
this improvement in my condition continuing, 
the doctor returned to his train; meeting him 
frequently afterwards in the gold diggings of 
California he would refer to the incident and 
tell those around him how he had raised me 
from the dead. I have often thought since, as 
have my father and brother, that he really did 
save my life. There is in my heart deep grati- 
tude for his services, and may God bless him is 
my prayer. 

So here in our cam]) on the shores of Deer 
Creek, though still weak and somewliat emaci- 
ated, I am convalescent. 

87 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1856 

Deer are so plentiful ai'oimd us, the cani}) is 
always supplied witli fresh meat. One buck 
killed by a man traveling with another train 
weighed tAvo hundred and eighty pounds. Mr. 
William Hopper was the first of our party to 
bring in a deer. Wishing to make some soup, 
I asked him for a small piece. He replied: 
"Certainly, Billy ; the sick shall have some be- 
fore any one else/' and he continued : ''Poor old 
Mrs. White, who I do not think is long for this 
world, shall have a piece at once also." Mr. 
Hopper was a most kindly mau. Seven years 
after the incident just related his daughter and 
I were married. 

And now lowering clouds and chilling wind> 
warn >is that it is time io leave this Deer Creek 
country. This warning is accentuated by tlie 
discovery of certain marks, indis})utable proof, 
on tlie surrounding tind)ers, showing that the 
snow liere attains to a deptli of from eight to 
ten feet. Xo other incentive is needed to has- 
ten our departure. For to be snowbound now 



1845) TWrCE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1S5() 

and iR'lpless, compclk'd to remain long dreary 
months in one desolate spot, the final outcome 
may l)e a repetition of the indescrihable hor- 
rors experienced by other sno\yl)ound trayeler?. 
And this, too, when almost in sight of that for 
which we had struggled and toiled and suffered 
so long to attain ? Oh, no ; not that, for 
heayen's sake, not that ! And so there is hur- 
rying to and fro, wagons are quickly put in or- 
der, cattle caught, yoked and coupled to them, 
whips crack and we are once more on the moye 
down toward the yalley of the Sacramento. 

Soon after leaying Deer Creek, Mr. William 
Massey died of mountain feyer. For seyeral 
days now our course lay through a yery rough 
country abounding in high hills. One day our 
train had arriyed at tlie top of one of these. The 
road leading to the yalley below was perfectly 
straight, yery steep and perhaps four hundred 
yards long. It had been cleared of the small 
oak brush that still stood thick, like a fence on 
either side. So al)ru])t was the incline, it was 



89 



1840 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185G 

thoiio-ht iii'fc'ssarv to rough-lock l)oth hind 
wheels of our wagons if we would make the 
descent safely. Que light wagon, drawn 1)}' a 
single yoke of oxen, drove up into position to 
be locked, but was halted too far forward over 
the edge of the declivity. The wagon, being on 
a slight down-grade, began crowding the oxen, 
and before the chain could l)e i)ut through the 
wheels the whole outfit, minus the driver, shot 
away downward like a flash of light, gathering 
speed as it went, and was soon lost to view in 
a great cloud of red dust. Strange to say, the 
animals, poor and weak as they were, kept their 
feet to the very ])ottom, where one of the wheels, 
striking a big rock, caused the yoke to snap 
asunder, and the two principal actors in tiie 
comedy quietly turned about and began eating 
a lot of grass tluit was in the wagon, thinking 
evidently that the occurrence was simply a part 
of the regular j)rogramme, and therefore not 
entitled to Ix' thouglit tlie least l)it sur])rising. 



90 




w^^ 




1S4*.) TWICIC AC'IIOSS THE PLAINS 1S5G 

One (lav more and we pass into the eastern 
edo-e of the Sacramento vallev. Here there is 

o 

another deatli from mountain fever. Jerry 
Overstreet is the vietim and we l)urv him on a 
little liill just ahove the vallev. 

On our way down the Sacramento, we pass 
Lawson's place. He is the man who Uiid out the 
road we liave heen traveling, from ^[ud Lake 
on, the same heing called ^'Lawson's cut-off." 
Our course is now steadily down the Sacramento 
river, along which we get our first sight of 

Spanish horses, and saddles with wooden stir- 
rups. 

It is now ahout the first of October, feed for 
our stock is excellent, and we see numerous 
hands of fat Spanish cattle roaming over the 
Sficramento ])lains. 

When within twenty-five miles of the junc- 
tion of the Feather and Sacramento rivers, we 
turn east and strike the former stream at the 
foothills and ci'oss over to the eastern side, then 
wind throuuh the hills for twentv or twentv-five 



93 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 1856 

niilo8 fiirtlier, until, on tlic fiftcentli day of Oc- 
tolxT, we reach the mining camp known as Bid- 
well's Bar, named after the rich har on the 
Feather river discovered hy John Bid well, the 
same John Bidwell who, years afterward, in 
1875, hecame a candidate for the office of Gov- 
ernor of California on the Independent ticket. 

So the long- journey is at last at an end and 
we are in the land of our dreams, after having 
heen five months and eight days, or ahout one 
hundred and sixty-two days, on the road. In 
all that time not a w(U"d from home has reached 
us, neither have those there received any tid- 
ings from the father and lirothers that so many 
months ago vanished from their sight and were 
swallowed up hy the mists of the vast wilder- 
ness. AMiat of the result? 

On leaving home, it was confidently expected 
that we would return within eighteen months, 
at least partially successful. But it is six long 
years — years of lahor and disappointment, of 
hopes and fears — ere many of us go hack. Some 

94 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 1<S.")() 

remain in California the balance of their lives, 
and others still of the little I^and that started 
forth that lovely ^lav morning, their hearts 
filled to overflowing with bright, glowing hopes 
for the future, lie under the silent stars, sleep- 
ing the sleep that knows no waking. 

But here at HidwelFs Bar we write home, and 
John Bid well himself, who is on his way to Sac- 
ramento, promises to mail our letters there. 
:\Iany months must go l)y before it will be pos- 
sil)le for an answer to reach us^ but we will be 
patient and wait. 

Our cattle are now unyoked and turned out to 
o-raze for the last time. Amono; the low hills 
grass is plentiful and they should do well, and 
surely theirs is a well-earned rest. But we never 
saw the faithful brutes again. The Indians liv- 
ing in the adjacent mountains ran them off and 
butchered them, every one. While out pros- 
pecting for gold the next summer we found 
theii" heads in an Indian villaiie. 



95 



1S4S> — TWICK ACHOSS TlIK PLAINS IHT)!; 

A few (lays after our arrival at BidwclFs Bar 
Tom Fristo was attacked with cholera morbus 
and died within a few hours. His was the fourtli 
deatli to occur in a family of five that belonged 
to our party, John Kearns l)eing tbe only sur- 
vivor. His father, two uncles and a brotber- 
in-law having passed away. 

The diggings known as Bidwell's Bar, where 
we now are, covers about one acre of ground, 
and is of course all located. Tbe dirt yields 
from ten to one hundred dollars per day to the 
num. 

We have as yet done no good so far as mining 
is concerned. The precious metal can be found 
almost anywhere in small quantities, l)ut under 
the conditions existing here the deposits must 
1)0 ricli to make them worth the working. Provi- 
sions of all kinds are very scarce and high in 
price; pork, flour and beans bringing from one 
dollar to one dollar and fifty cents per pound. 
The supplies hroiigbt by our party were now 

96 



1840 — - TWICE ACHOSS THE PLAINS 185() 

about c'xliaiisted, and most oi' ii8 were out of 
moiie}' also. 

To make matters worse the rainy season set 
in about tlie twenty-fifth of October, earlier 
than usual, so the old timers say, hence most of 
the foodstuffs that had been brought in got wet 
before they could be properly housed. During 
the winter that followed we paid one dollar per 
pound for flour that had become almost a solid 
nuiss, and had to be cut from the barrel and 
the lumps pounded into a powder before it could 
be made into bread. Certainly a poor article of 
diet, but better than no bread at all. 

There was mucli activity in the matter of 
building during the early winter. Cabins were 
constructed of shakes split from the pine trees 
that grew all about us. Charlie Clark paid my 
father twenty-five dollars per hundred for a 
sufficient number of these rude boards to build 
a house; and then ten dollars a day to help in 
its construction, which seemed to us better than 
the uncertainty of prospecting for gold. 

97 



1845) — TWU'K AC'l{()SS THE PLA1N8 1<S5G 

John Bidwc'll employed hundreds of Indians 
to colleet gold for liim along the banks of the 
Feather river, giving for this service all the 
wheat they could eat. 

I was sick during the whole of the winter of 
forty-nine and fifty, never having fully recov- 
ered from the spell of mountain fever previ- 
ously referred to in this narrative. The disease 
resulted in chronic diarrhea, which finally had 
so weakened me that I walked with difficulty. 
One day while in Charlie Clark's store I saw a 
sack of dried blue figs, and Mr. Clark, seeing 
tliey had attracted my attention, invited me to 
eat some. I did so and they seemed to me 
delicious. Putting a few in my pocket, I re- 
turned to camp, feeling better tlum usual. 

Very near to us at that tinu^ there was living 
a Dr. Clarke, a man who undoul)tedly possessed 
great al)ility along the lines of his profession. 
He had all winter taken mucli interest in my 
case, having been at all times most kind in ad- 
vising me concerning my daily diet, etc. Going 



98 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS IS-IG 

to liini, T asked his advice as to the figs. Becom- 
ing quite angrv at tlie mere mention of so dan- 
gerous a proceeding he said: ''You darn fool, go 
and eat of those i\gi^ and you will die hefore an- 
other sun rises." But 1 did not dii', nor did the 
doctor ever hear of mv indiscretion, hut from 
that time on 1 continued to improve and was 
in time completely restored to health and 
strength. 

In March we moved up to the South Fork and 
located what is called a river claim. The l)eds 
of streams were in tliat day supposed to l)e very 
rich in gold. It was our intention to wait un- 
til summer, when the water would l)e low. and 
then, hy turning the stream from its course, 
expose t]ie l)ed and at our leisure extract the 
gold from its sands. 

In the meantime, whik' waiting for the waters 
to suhside\, and dreaming d-dy dreams of the en- 
ormous wealth that would soon flow steadily in 
u])on us, we spent tlie time in prospecting. 
While thus engaged, we did succeed in findins: 



'{-,"{-,- 



tore, 



99 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185() 

a few small rich pockets in a spot, where, in 
after years, was located one of the richest min- 
ing camps in the State, and fortune after for- 
tune extracted from the vei'v ground away from 
which we had turned, tired and disgusted witli 
its barrenness. This rich spot was known as the 
Oregon Flat. 

But now the late summer had come with its 
low waters, and with an enthusiasm born of 
hope, we headed joyfully for the river claim on 
the South Fork. Here pitching our camp, we. 
with much patience and labor, at last succeeded 
in turning the stream from its bed and found — 
well, hardly a cohu' of gold in return for our 
pains. 

It was the decree of fate that we should not 
strike it rich in t1ie diggings. But we were not 
the ()]ily oiu's thus doomed to disa]:ipointment. 
In our travels al)out the mining districts we 
found on an average ten men in search of the 
"paying" claim to one that found it. 

100 



184:1) TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185(j 

As a business proposition, mining for gold is 
ost uncertain in its results and demoraliziuoj 



ni 



in its influences, inasmuch as it unfits a man 
for otlier and more legitimate pursuits. 

So far as I am concerned, it seems to me that 
my lack of success in the mines was a blessing 
in disguise, and there is no regret on my part 
that matters shaped themselves as they did. 

And now a word in defence of the men of 
'49. Although they may not need it, for the 
world at large has long since, I believe, recog- 
nized their true worth, representative as they 
were of that class of brave hearts that first car- 
ried the l)anners of civilization into Kentucky, 
Ohio and other then wild regions of our coun- 
try. But from some sources malicious asper- 
sions have been cast upon the characters of these 
men as a class. These attacks, however, may 
have been due sim})ly to a total ignorance of 
the true facts in tlie case. I do not believe, and 
I say it witli all sincerity, that it wouhl be pos- 
sible to find in all tiie world a more orderly, 



101 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS IST)!] 

honest, so1)er set of men than these miners. 
Dnrino- my stay of twelve niontlis among them, 
I did not see one single fight, and but two or 
three cases of drunkenness. There was abso- 
hitely no thievery. Although Ijeyond the juris- 
diction of the law thev were still law-abiding, 
and in their dealings Avith each other they wer<^ 
governed by a spirit of fairness and justice that 
was most cominendal)le. And all this, too, while 
far away from the tender, restraining influences 
of the home and of society. 

The famous Sam Jones once in a letter to a 
friend said he found Sacramento to l)e one of 
the roughest and toughest towns he had yet 
preached in in (California, and that he was told 
that this was to be accounted for by the fact 
that a large percentage of the citizens were 
forty-niners, and he added that he ''thanked 
Heaven that within a few years all of the forty- 
niners would 1)0 dead.'' 

I at once lost faith in Sam, knowino- he was 



102 



184!) TWICE ACIJOSS THE PLAIN'S 1S5() 

expressing' views on a suhjret: lie knew nothing 
about. 

In Septeni])er x\mos Knsic, a negro, and a 
sailor who had l)een his mining partner, having 
between them about three thousand dollars, left 
Bidwell's at noon on their way East. After go- 
ing about three miles they sat down on a divide 
to rest. Here they were attacked by Joaquin 
Murietta and his gang of outlaws. One of the 
men was lassoed and dragged to death, while 
the other was killed with a knife. When the 
bodies were discovered there was found a trail 
of blood leading away from the scene of the 
crime. It would seem that the negro had in 
some manner during the encounter come into 
possession of a knife belonging to one of the 
robbers, and had used it with deadly effect. 

A posse was organized and followed the 
Spaniards for many miles, but never succeeded 
in overtakino- them. 



103 



CHAPTEK VI. 

In Xoveiiiber, 1850, my father and I, being 
desirous of seeing more of the country, left the 
mines and came down into the valleys. Reach- 
ing Sacramento, we purchased a packhorse and 
other things necessary for the journey contem- 
plated. 

On the third day of December we crossed the 
river on a ferryboat and headed west. 

The first day after leaving Sacramento we 
arrived on tlie spot where Davisville now stands. 
Jerome Davis had settkHl there that fall. The 
second day saw ns a little l)elow the present site 
of Winters ; and on the third day out, which was 
Deceml)er fi. 1850, we reached the valley which 
hears our name. The whole country was at that 
time filled with wild game. Hnndreds of elk 
could be seen in a single herd, and antelope were 
equally numerous, while great flocks of wild 
geese covered thousands of acres of ground at a 
time. Deer were very plentiful and quite tame. 



105 



1841) TWICE ACliOSS THE PLAINS 1850 

Of these as maiiv as a hundred or more couUl l)e 
seen in half a day's liiint. And I must not for- 
get to mention that royal heast, the monarch of 
them all, the great grizzly bear. This region 
was his home, and for years after my father had 
settled in this valley he continued to challenge 
our right to oust him from it. 

Two miles above what is now the town of 
Winters we found living on the south side of 
Putah Creek John E. Wolfskill. He had settled 
here in 1841. He gave us much information 
concerning the country and the little handful 
of people in it. Where Vacaville is now there 
was one small house, owned and occupied by a 
Mrs. McGuire. Two of the Longs also lived 
in that neighborhood. In Lagoon A^alley there 
were two Spanish families, named, respectively, 
Barker and Panier. These were the only set- 
tlers within twenty miles of our home. 

During the summer of 1851 Pichardson 
Long, Whit Long, M. P. Miller, Henry Am- 
mens, George Egbert and William Smith all 



106 



1^^'> TWICK ACI{()SS TIIK PLAINS lHr)'\ 

settled in tliis valley. In 1852 John Simpson 
made his home here. G. W. Thistle eame in 
1857. So about all of the Government land was 
now taken np. The vears immediately follow- 
ing 1850 were busy ones with us. Viroin for- 
ests that h.ad never, sinee the world began. he:ird 
the sound of tlie axe had to he eleared away,, 
buildings erected and the ground put in con- 
dition for cultivation. 

Those who have never had any experience in 
such matters can hardly realize the enormous 
dihiculties to be overcome in founding a new 
home in a wilderness. The task of a new settler 
is a hard one, even when within easv reacli of 
stores and sawmills, but in a country where 
these bases of supplies are either entirely kicking 
or are so distant as to be almost out of the ([ues- 
tion. tlie ))roblein is doubly perplexing. But we 
managed it somehow, and within a few vears 
were well cstal)lishe(L 

In 185() my fathei' sent me to ^lissinii'i t'l 
briuu' the I'emaindei' of our familv to Galif(U'nia. 



107 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS ISolJ 

Fel)riiarv the 19th, I loft home bound for 
San Francisco, from which pUicc it was my in- 
tention to proceed to St. Louis, Mo., by way of 
Panama and Xew Orleans. My ticket, calling 
for a steerage passage, cost me one hundred 
dollars to the latter city. On February 20th I 
sailed for Panama on tlie shi]) "Sonora" and 
reached there in about twelve days, after an un- 
eventful voyage. The railroad that carried me 
across the isthmus to the Atlantic side was the 
first I had ever seen, but, having read much 
aljout them, it was about as my mind had pic- 
tured it. 

After crossing the isthmus I went on board a 
large vessel, named the "George Law/'- ])ound 
for Cuba, and reached the city of Havana in 
due time. From there the ship "(}ueen City" 
carried me to Xew Orleans in just twenty-two 
days from San Francisco. 

The journey from Xew Orleans to St. Louis 
was made on a steamer, the name of which T 
liave forgotten. We were nine days on the tri]). 



108 



1840 TWICE ACROSS TTTE PLATXS 185G 

wliic-li cost sixteen dollars. At St. Louis 1 took 
tlie train foi- St. Charles, a distance of twenty 
miles or so, and as far as the Xorth Missouri 
railroad was at that time completed. Stopping- 
over night in St. Charles. I purcliased the nexi 
morning a horse, saddle and hridle for one hun- 
dred and sixty ('ollars and rode the animal two 
hundred miles or more, to the home of my 
brother and sisters in Western Missouri, stopping 
on the way, liowevrr, at a point fifty miles west 
of St. Louis for a week's visit to my uncles 
Edward and Hoyal Pleasants. 

It was on the sixth day of April that I ar- 
rived at the hoiiu' of my brother and sisters, just 
fortv-seven days from the time I left my 
father's house in California. The trij) had. 
altogether, been a most enjoyable one. 

'J'he only traveling I had ever done before was 
the crossing of the ])lains in '49, and 
soon after ri'aching California tlu'U I bad set- 
tled down and rcniaini'd amid the peaceful en- 
viromnents of our vallev home, livinu' a life ot 



109 



18J:9 TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAINS 1850 

innocent freedom and content. Excessively fond 
of hunting, no one ever had finer opportunities 
than I of indulging in a favorite sport, so num- 
erous were grizzly bears, elk, antelope, deer and 
panthers, or California lions, as some call them. 
So this journey East was a new and interesting 
experience to me, especially that portion of it 
made by water. There were no storms or bad 
weather of any kind encountered, and after the 
first day out I was not bothered by seasickness. 

It was exceedingly pleasant to l)e again in 
the company of my relatives, after an absence 
of six years. After my visit to my uncle, Ed- 
ward Pleasants, was ended and I was taking 
leave of him he said : "William, be a man and 
remember you have to die." I have never for- 
gotten and never shall forget those words and 
liis impressive manner as he uttered them. 

After visiting with my Ijrother and sisters 
for a few days, during which I gave them a his- 
tory of all that had transpired since we had 
last met. T began making ])reparations for our 



110 



1841) TWK'E A('1!()SS THE PLAINS 185(l 

journey to California. A party intending to 
cross the plains was then being organized in 
the neighl)orhood. I at once joined the com- 
pany and began the purchase of an outfit. Here 
was a good opportunity to get rid of some of 
the geld that 1 had carried constantly on my 
person since the day I left California. While 
in San Francisco I had bought a buckskin 
money jacket that fitted my body next the skin 
snugly. This garment had in it numerous small 
pockets, and in these 1 carried all the money I 
possessed, a sum amounting to about fifteen 
hundred dollars in gold coin. For nearly two 
months I had worn it constantly. At first it did 
not inconvenience me much, but the longer it 
was worn the heavier it seemed to become and at 
last when it was discarded my skin bore for 
weeks afterward visible impressions of ten and 
twenty-dollar gold pieces. In fact, 1 was so 
impressed with gold money at that time that 
the impression of its usefulness has lingered 
with me ever since. It may seem strange to 

111 



1841) TWICE ACliOSS Till-: PLAINS — 185G 

the reader of these })ages that I slioiiUl carry 
this money so long in the inanner stated, l)ui: 
you must remember that in those days there 
were no l)anks, and as to leaving it with friends; 
well. I knew myself l)etter than I knew them 
and preferred to be my own treasurer. 

Within fifteen days 1 had secured for five 
persons, these being my three sisters, my 
brother and myself, the following outfit: Two 
sa(b1le horses, four choice milk cows, six yoko 
of good oxen and one wagon. Besides these 
there was a sufficient supply of clothing and 
enouiih provisions to last us six oreio-ht months, 
evervtliino- bouo'ht beino- substantial and useful. 
This outfit, in some particulars, differed from 
those of the others, inasmuch as T, profiting by 
my former experience, laid in more dried fruits 
and sugar and less bacon. 

]\[any of the ohler nu'n thought that T, l)eing 
only a ])oy, was making a mistake. But these 
afterward realized that they were the ones who 
had been mistaken. By May the sixth, 1850, 



112 



1841) TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAINS 1850 

we were ready to go. The start was to be mad'j 
from Bio- C^re^'k. a })oi]it on the open prairie in 
Johnson County, ^lissouri. Soon all had ar- 
rived at this spot. There were altogether eight 
wagons and al)out fifty men, women and chil- 
dren in the party. Two of the men, Messrs. 
William Hopper and David Burris, were old 
comrades of mine, they liaving 1)een members 
of tlie company that 1 crossed the plains with 
in -49. 

At tlie liour of starting friends and relatives 
liad gathered from far and near to hid ns 
good-by, and sncli sorrow and weeping I never 
witnessed l)efore. The scene was a touching 
one. The parting of these people, many of 
them never to meet again on earth, was affecting 
in the extreme. But the leave-taking was at 
last ended, wagons were lined up, the word to 
start give and I was again on my way to mv 
California home. We traveled about ten mile- 
that day, and, on camping for the night, we 
proceeded to elect a leader of the expedition. 



113 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185G 

and Mr. William Hopper was unanimously 
chosen as captain of the train. Xo other officers 
were deemed necessary. 

I was now at the zenith of my delight, heing 
headed for my heloved California home. There 
were now no special ties hinding me to the East. 
^[y hrother and sisters heing with me, there re- 
mained in that section no memher of my imme- 
diate family; hence, unlike the others, it was 
with a light heart and joyful anticipations that 
I turned my face toward the West. My life on 
the Pacific Coast had well fitted me for the 
present journey. Healthy and strong and ex- 
ceedingly fond of the chase, I longed for th«} 
day to come when we would he among the 
buffaloes and antelope out on the great plains. 

But how different were the feedings of the 
others. They were leaving home and dear ones 
to face for months unknown hardships and 
dangers, and finally to dwell among strangers 
in a strange land. For a few days there wa^ 
much despondency and gloom among them, but 



114 



1849 TWICE ACROSS TlIK J'LAIXS — 1856 

this gradually wore off amid the new and inter- 
esting scenes through whieli we were passing. 
We were soon across the Missouri line and in 
the wild country that afterwards l)ecame the 
State of Kansas. 

We crossed the Kaw or Kansas river a few 
miles west of where the town of Lawrence was 
afterwards located, our general course being 
northwest. All about us the prairie grass was 
al)undant, while the weather continued beauti- 
ful. Jt was in this portion of the country be- 
tween the ^Missouri line and the Big Blue riyer 
that three of our part}' got lost one night in a 
dense fog. It was customary for us to haye 
three men always on guard with the cattle at 
night, the first watch lasting from dark to mid- 
night. The second watch would then relieye 
the first and remain on duty until day. On the 
night in (piestion the fog had settled down so 
thickly that it was possible to see but a short 
distance away. The cattle, as was usual at 
night, had been rounded up in a small si)ace 



115 



1849 TWICE ACROSS TTTE PLAINS 185G 

al)out five or six luiiidrcd varcis from tlio 
wagons. Tlie second wateli relieved the first ac 
midnight, and in so (hdng sliowed tliem wliat 
direction to take in order to reach the wagons. 
The camp fires had gone out and, tlie people 
heing asleep, there was neitlier light nor noise 
to further direct the men to the right spot, and 
in the dense darkness they missed their way 
and were soon wandering here and there, totally 
lost. Their ahsence from the camp was not dis- 
covered until after daylight, when the second 
watch came off duty. Then measures were at 
once taken to find them. Guns were fired at 
intervals to apprise them of our whereahouts 
should they l)e in hearing distance, and finally 
Uncle Charlie Hopper jumped on liis mule and 
set out, at the risk of l)eing lost himself, to 
search for the missing ones. 

About five miles away he came across their 
trail in the dew on the grass and, following this, 
overtook them six or seven miles from camp. 
The names of these three uien wt're William 



116 



1849 TWICE ACTJOSS THE PLAINS ■ IST)!') 

Hopper, Ike Islev and John Saekett. Our train 
now averaged about twelve miles per day; and 
we were soon among the buffaloes and antelope, 
wliieh resulted in an alnmdanee of fresh meat 
for all. 

One morning on the hanks of the Little Blue 
river we had halted our train in order that the 
cattle might re^st and graze for a few hours 
when a party of about one hundred Indian 
warriors belonging to the Cheyenne tril)e rodc^ 
boldly into our cam]). But as luck would have 
it, over one-half of the men in the company 
were at the time ])reparing for a target shoot 
and, to the surprise of the savages, were ready, 
Avith their guns in their hands, for any emer- 
gency. As it turned out, however, not a shot 
was fired, ])ut no telling how the mee^ting might 
have ended had there not just at this time come 
in sight a large force of men convoying a Gov- 
ernment train. 'Jdie'se Indians were armed with 
guns and lances, and each also carried on his 
arm a shield. The heads or Idades of the lances 



117 



1S4J) TWICE ACROSS TilK PLAINS — 1<S5(5 

were made of steel about one and one-half inches 
in width and tliree and one-half feet in length, 
havino- very sharp edges, tapering each way 
from the center. Their points were very sliarp. 
I'hese blades were set into wooden shafts one 
and one-half inches in diameter and the whole, 
head and all, al)out fourteen feet long. The 
things looked to be more dangerous than six- 
shooters, and it is said the Indians use them 
with great skill and accuracy, and that in a close 
light they are more dangerous in their hands 
than rifles would be. 

The officials with the Goyernment conyoy, 
with whom we afterwards talked, told us that 
th.is band undoubtedly intended to plunder out- 
train, but, finding us prepared for a fight, some- 
what disarranged their plans and then the Goy- 
ernment train happening along settled the mat- 
ter in our fayor. Anyway, they stood not upon 
the order of their going l)ut went at once, aud 
we saw them no more. 



118 



CHAPTER VU. 

Our route was now up the Little Blue river 
for several days. It was on the Ijanks of this 
beautiful stream in IS^tl) that the expedition J 
was then with, buried its well-loved wagon- 
master, John Lane. Xow. in company with Mr. 
William Hopper, I went to the place where we 
had laid him Just six years before. All that 
remained at this time to mark the spot w^ere a 
few fragments of the head and foot boards that 
we had erected above the grave. It was with 
feelings of the greatest sadness that we turned 
away from this lone last resting place of noble 
John Lane. From the Little Blue we turned 
northwest through a rolling hill country, and 
Avithin two or three days were on the south bank 
of the Platte river near Fort Kearney. This 
stream is described in a previous portion of thi^• 
narrative. 

The valley of the Platte is the favorite home 
of the buffalo ; and, for the sake of the younger 

119 



LS4I) TWICE ACKOSS TiiE I'LAINS — IS.")!; 

generation that may ^onie day happen to read 
tliis little vohime, 1 will describe to the l)est of 
my ability one of the nniny buffalo hunts in 
whieli I was an active participant. Early one 
bright sunny morning, just as our people were 
breaking camp preliminary to a continuance of 
the daily journey westward, David Burris, ^Yill- 
iam Wester and myself, well armed and mount- 
ed, left the busy scene and rode up a small 
stream, a tributary of the South Platte, know^n 
as Plum Creek, headed for the tahle-land some 
distance away, where we miglit view the sur- 
rounding country and choose the ground for 
the day's sport, for at this time the l)uffalo were 
to be found in such vast numbers tliat the 
hunter could at his leisure, and according to his 
own fancy, select the location that was to 1)e the 
scene of his operations, just as school boys 
choose a spot for playing ball. Reaching the 
elevation that had been our objective point from 
the stai't, there was spread out hefore us a scene 
that will forever be denied the future genera- 



120 



1S4I)— TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS —1850 

tions of men. In that clear transparent atmos- 
phere, east, south and west, as far as the most 
perfect eye could reach, were to he seen count- 
less thousands of huffaloes, not huddled up to- 
gether in bunches but separated from each 
other, say from three to five to the acre, quietly 
grazing like so many cattle. We rode up quite 
close to where a few were rolling in the dirt, 
as we sometimes see horses roll, a practice com- 
mon to the buffalo. We dismounted and, each 
man selecting an animal as a mark, fired, but 
seemingly, without effect. Mr. Wester then 
proposed that one of us, suggesting himself, 
take charge of the rifles, the other two to ride 
among the animals armed only with Colts re- 
volvers. This plan was at once adopted. With 
a revolver in one hand and the bridle in the 
other, Burris and I put spurs to our horses and 
dashed towards the (piarry. Singling out one 
fine animal as the oI)ject of attack, we hoth 
made for him. Our horses seemed to partake 
of the spirit of the s{)()rt and bore us noldy. It 

123 



18-Ll) TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS ■ — 185() 

was our intention to ride up close to the greal 
beast until our horses' necks were on a line with 
his hips and then shoot him in the upper flank. 
This was not an easy thing to do, for when our 
horses would get close enough to catch the odor 
of the buffalo thev would, in spite of us, shy to 
the left and run away, but after several at- 
tempts aud as many runaways we succeeded in 
approaching uear enough to get in some tell- 
ing shots, which made the beast furious. At 
L'xery shot he would wheel and charge us, and 
more than once he came near ripping the side 
of a horse with his sharp, curving black horns. 
These thrusts so frightened our horses that it 
was as much as we could do to keep our saddles. 
The pursued animal finally stopped running 
and stood at bay, madly ])awing the ground, 
first with one foot and then the other, his blood- 
shot eyes full of i-age and defiance. Standiug 
with lowered head in a position of defense, he 
seemed to dare us to coiiu' on. 



124 



18-1:9 TWICh ACROSS THE PLAINS 1856 

It is a waste of ainnuinition to shoot a InifEalo 
in the face. The front of the skull, naturally of 
great thickness, is rendered more impervious by 
a long-standing accumulation of sand and dirt 
several inches thick matted in the woolly front. 
So our only chance was to take running shots 
at his side. This we did and finally dispatched 
him. 

We were now some tin or twelve miles south 
from the emigrant road, and a little line of blue 
smoke curling upward from a grove of quaking 
asps at the head of Plum Creek, only two or 
three miles away warned us that we were in 
close proximity to an Indian camp, and we 
thought it l)est to turn al)out and as soon as 
possible get to wliere our guns were, far back 
to the rear in the liands of Billy Wester. So 
vrhen we had each secured a nice cliunk of meat 
for ourselves and an extra good ])iece for our 
comrade we started l)ack and were soon all to- 
gether again. After I'iding liard tlie l)alance of 
the dav we overtook our company just before 



125. 



1849 TWICE ACKOSS THE PLAIXS 185G 

(lark, after they had gone into camp for the 
night. This ended one of the most exciting 
hunts I ever engaged in. 

It was at thi^ time that I hegan to under- 
stand and ai)})reciate the extreme hitterness 
with which the Indian regarded the encroach- 
ments of the whites, realizing, as he no douht 
did, that no matter in what manner or how 
h)ng he might resist, the superior intelligence 
of his foe must in the end conquer. Forced 
further and further l)ack, away from the be- 
haved lands wliere the hones of his father.-^ 
mouldered, he could see that it was only a ques- 
tion of time when his proud race would be 
doomed to extinction. The wild game that now 
nourished liim and liis loved ones must soon 
disappear l)efore- the numfjerless rifles of his 
masters. Want, ])1iysical decay and disease must 
follow, and in the end a race of men wortliy of 
a better fate will have perished from the face 
of the earth and nof one left to tell of the 
tragedy. Ah, well, 'tis tlie old, old story being 



126 



1849 — TWICE ACKoss rnK plains — 185(5 

relocated, and that has heen ropcatcd over and 
over again, since first the worhl hegan, the sur- 
vival of the fittest, and man's inhumanity to 
man. 

In this, as in many other portions of the 
country, we often saw and were deceived by 
tluit strange phenomena known as a mirage. 
The tired traveler riding for hours, maybe a 
whole day, in the stifling heat of the desert with- 
out having tasted a drop of water and almost 
famishing from thirst, sees suddenly in the dis- 
tance ahead a beautiful lake. Mirrored in its 
bosom are to be seen the clear-cut outlines of the 
far-off curvino- hills, while on its lovelv banks 
groves of trees cast their cool shadows over 
grassy swards and bend low their luxuriant 
foliage to kiss the sparkling waters. Almost 
maddened by the sight, man and beast hurry for- 
ward with renewed energy over the desolate hot 
sands, their one thought to reach as quickly as 
possible the restful shade of the oasis. But tlii' 
vision, A\'ith cruel mockery, keeps always the 

127 



1S4I) TWICE ACEOSS TllH PLAINS 1!^.')(5 

same distance ahead and (inally fades from view 
altogether. 

Tlie mirage is usnally seen across a level 
])hiin on a liot day. 1 have often seen them be- 
tween me and a distant range of liills or monn- 
tains, these seemingly suspended in the air 
with tlie lake underneath them. Of course we 
soon l)ecame acquainted witli this deception, as 
we did witli some others that were along some- 
what different lines. The Indians, for instance, 
would sometimes try to decoy us within range 
of tluir arrows l)y going into the tall grass, 
which would conceal their bodies, and then 
place upon their own heads the head and 
antlers of an antelope, at the same time counter- 
feiting tlie movements of that animal. We 
never shot an Indian that was playing this little 
game, but, nevertheless, he was taking some tall 
cliances. 

The coyote takes the place of the rooster on 
the ])lains. for he invariably howls at the dawn 
of daw One will start the concert, another im- 



128 



1840 TWrCK ACROSS TIIK PLAINS 185() 

iiiediatt'ly follows, and soon in cvcrv dircc-lion 
as far as the ear ean i-eacli there is one grand 
swelling chorus of yells, snap})ing of teeth and 
mournful howls. Bands of wolves woukl gather 
around (Uir earn]), await our departure and then 
eonie in and feast otf tlie refuse that had heen 
left. 

Beside the coyote tlu'rv were three other 
kinds, all large animals, one grey, one cream- 
colored and another hhick. Although plentiful, 
some heing in sight nearly all the time, we 
wei-e never molested l)y them. While mention- 
ing this wild music of the plains, I am re- 
minded of the fact that there were among us 
some that played well on the violin, two of these 
instruments heing in our outfit. There were 
also some good voices, and often at evening we 
would gather in one tent and have music and 
dancing, never failing, however, to kecj) at such 
times a vigilant watch, that we might not l)e 
surprised hy the prowling savages. 

129 



1849 TWJCE ACKOSS THE PLAINS — 1856 

We continued up along the banks of the 
Platte for a few (Uivs and then crossed to the 
other side, and in so doing left behind us tlie 
great buffalo country. From tlie nortli sick' of 
the river our course lay tlirough a country 
a))ounding in low hills. After some days 
journeying througli these we reached the Xorth 
Platte, and for several weeks this stream was 
followed, and along its course we encountered 
some peculiar uatural rock fcn-niations. One 
of these, known as Courthouse Rock, resembles 
in its outlines a great l)uilding, such as a court- 
house or State capitol structure. Another, 
known as Chimney liock, rises to a great height 
and is somewhat like a chimney or smoke stack. 
I atteni])ted to cliud) to its to]) but could not do 
so by at least one hundred feet. 

A few miles below Fort Laramie we passed 
near a spot where are buried one hundred and 
twenty V. S. soldiei-s, killed one year bcfoi-e in 
a battle with Sioux Indians. This batth^ was 
j)reci])itat('d in llic following manner: The 



130 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 185n 

Indians, numbering several hundred, were 
camped on the banks of the river. One or more 
of tliem liad stolen and l)utehered an ox JK-long- 
ing to an emigrant train. Complaint was made 
to the authorities at the fort l)y the owner of the 
stolen animal, and a young officer with little or 
no experience in Indian warfare was sent with a 
company of soldiers to arrest the thief or thieves, 
but these the Indians stul)bornly refused to de- 
liver up. Tliinking to frighten them into ac- 
ceding to the demand, the young officer ordered 
that a volley he fired over their heads. This, 
on l)eing done, so enraged the savages that they 
immediately attacked the soldiers and, being 
greatly su])erior in numbers, succeeded in kill- 
ing nearly all the whites before assistance from 
the fort arrived. The poor victims of the 
massacre were all Iniried in one long grave. 

Upon our arrival at Fort Laramie we found 
camped in the neighborhood about one thou- 
sand Indians. They liad asseml)led for the pur- 
pose of entering into a treaty of peace with 



131 



1845)- 



TWICE ACROSS TIIK PLAINS 



-18r)() 



Unck' Sam. (U'licral Harney liad soundly 
tlirashed tlieni for the massacre (d' the sohlicrs 
and they were now desirous of coming to terms, 
tliough still in a sullen mood. 

It was some time in July when we left this 
j)oint, and we continued n}) the river nntil on:^ 
hundred miles or so above the fort l)efore wo 
crossed over. Feed is getting scarce and we 
are often compelkd to camp several miles from 
the main road in order to iind grass for the 
caltle that are now becoming ])0(n- and conse- 
(juently losing strength. We have to fre((uently 
lay by to let them rest and recuperate. 

The nights are growing colder, owing to our 
near approach to the Rockies but the days con- 
tijine warm and pleasant. 

Independence Hock is now met with and 
some few mihs west of it we strike Sweetwater 
(h'eek or river. u[) wdiich we travel for about 
three weeks. 'Jdds charming little stream, eom- 
ing down from the summit of the Hocky ]\Ioun- 
tains, runs due east and eiu})ties into the Xorth 



132 



1841) TWICK AClfOSS THE PLAIXS 185(1 

Platte. Its kiigth is in the neighljorhood of 
three hundred miles, and we followed it for 
nearly that distance to its source. 

The South Pass, where we had now arrived, 
is a gap several miles wide in the mountain 
range. About one-half of our journey was now 
completed, but our draught animals were in a 
bad condition, ])eing footsore and poor. And 
there was ahead of us at least one wide desert to 
cross, where neither water nor feed was to be 
found. Thinking of these dithculties in our path- 
way, we began the descent of the Western slope 
and reached Green Piver, one of the upper 
branches of the Colorado. All the way to Bear 
Piver there was good grass. At a point midway 
between old Fort Hall and Great Salt Lake we 
turn away from Bear Piver, for this stream now 
bears toward the Southwest. 

For a week or ten days we are among low 
hills, valleys and ])lains, then Goose Creek is 
reached. In this section of country there is an 
aljundant sui)|)ly of good water and grass, but 



133 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS ISol) 

the Inclians, partly under the iiilhioiiec of tlie 
^lorinons, and aided and encouraged by tliein, 
were very troid)lesome. For two weeks or more 
we i^osted a double guard over our stock at night, 
and on more than one occasion Indians or white, 
men (we could not tell which), were seen in 
the darkness prowling around and were fired 
upon. We Ijelieved these extra precautions 
saved us from disaster. In this neighborhood 
we saw several new graves, near which were 
posted written notices reading: ''Killed bv 
Indians. Be carefuL" 

It was while in this dangerous territory that 
I one day received a mysterious warning. As 
was my custom, I. one afternoon, rode on alone 
ahead of the train to locate a suital)le camping 
ground for the night. After going several 
miles I l)ecame quite drowsy and dismounted to 
rest a s})elL I)ro|)ping the ])icket ro|)e in order 
that my niuh' might graze, I stretched myself 
u])()n the gi-ound and was soon sound asleep. 
Just how long I had shnnl)ered I do not know. 



134 



1^4U TWICE .U'KOSS TIIK PLAINS I8r)(') 

l)iit certainly not very long, when I was sud- 
denly aroused l)y a luinian voice calling my 
name in a low, wary tone. It said, '^William, 
William. William!" There was no mistake. 
Three times I heard it clearly and distinctly, 
and it came from only a few steps away. In an 
instant 1 was on my feet and, fully realizing 
now the danger of my position, I lost no time 
in remounting and hurrying away. It was a 
strange occurrence, and I believed then, and do 
now, that at the time some imminent danger 
threatened me and the voice was a friendly 
warning from some mysterious unseen source. 



135 



CHAPTER VIIL 

After leaving Goose Creek our road lay 
through an uninteresting region. Passing Thou- 
sand S]n-ings A^allev, we came to the Humboldt 
river, down whieh we traveled its entire length, 
and it was on the banks of this stream that we 
had our most serious encounter with Indians. 
It was the --^^th day of August, 185(). We had 
spent tlie noon hour at the upper end of a beau- 
tiful valley that was four or five miles long and 
al)out one and a half miles wide. At 1 o'clock 
we had hitched up and were continuing our 
journey when we came to another wagon train 
in camp on the Ijank of the river. We had met 
this same party l)efore and were well acquainted 
with them. In the conversation that ensued 
they informed us that there was a l)and of hos- 
tile Indians nund)ering a hundred or so some 
distance down tlie valley whose actions l)oded 
no good to any one going that way. and they 
deemed it decidedly dangerous for us to pro- 



137 



1849 TWICE ACK0S8 THE PLAINS 1856 

eecd fiirtluT in that direction that afternoon. In 
pursuance of their friendly advice, we halted 
and went into camp a few hundred yards away 
from them. We had hardly gotten (nir cattle 
unyoked and turned out to graze when it was 
discovered that the Indians were trying to set 
fire to the long grass and at the same time they 
Ijegan shooting the stock of our neighbors, 
which were grazing half a mile or so from the 
wagons. The grass was too green to Inirn, and 
the Indians that were shooting the animals were 
soon driven away ])y the l)oys on guard, not, 
however, until they had succeeded in killing sev- 
eral head of cattle and a mule. One painted 
warrior during this time seemed to turn his en- 
tire attention to us, dashing l)ack and forth in 
front of our wagons at a distance of alunit one 
hundred and fifty yards, lie was well mounted 
and carried a good looking rifle. Some of our 
party wanted to shoot him, which could easily 
have been done, as he presented a shining nuirk, 
hut the older juen forhade them to do so. At 



138 



1S41)- 



TWICK ACIJOSS tllli J'LAIXS ■ — 185() 



tir^t wc \vatclii'(I his maiuuivers clost'ly, wonder- 
iii^U- wliat his intentions could he, hut as lie wa^ 
(h)inii' us no harm we ceased })aYini>- anv atten- 
tion to him. iMiially, riding into a cluster of 
willows, he tired into a group of our hoys, 
wounding two of them l)adly hut not fatally. 
The hulU't ])assed through William Hopper's 
thigh and then into Harvey Pleasants' groin, 
where it lodged and remained until his death, 
which occurred just twelve years afterward. 

The savage, seeing the success of his murder- 
ous work, immediately whirled his horse and 
rode away with the speed of the wind, and, al- 
th.ough one of our hoys tired at him, he escaped 
and rejoined his hand. Doctor Mathews' train 
was in camp down th.e valley one mile from ours. 
T^pon leaving us, the Indians mach^ a dash for 
his outfit, took him and his party l)y surprise, 
staiuj)eded and carried olf fifteen head of horses, 
which was all he had. and were soon out of 
range of any ordinary gun. But the Doctor 
had with him somelhino- that was rare in those 



141 



1849 TWICE AClfOSS TIIK PLAINS • — 185(1 

days. This was a fine lono-range telescope rifle. 
Deeply iiu-eiised at tlie manner in wliich lie had 
been treated, he rested this weapon upon the 
wheel of a wagon, took careful aim, fired nnd 
killed one of the Indians at a distance of se\'- 
eral hundi-ed yards. 

The ])attle l)eing now over, the Doctor came 
np and dressed the Imi-ts of our wounded. But 
we were com])elled to stay where we wei'e until 
the boys were al)le to he moved, which was a 
week or ten days. The second night after the 
Indian attack two of our nu^n followed the di- 
rection taken by them and located their camp, 
which was in a small valley some fiftien or 
twenty miles north, so one hour after dai'k on 
the following night fifteen of us. well armed 
and mounted on our best horses and mules, set 
out with the intention of surprising them but 
they somehow learned of our approach, and, ex- 
tinguishing their fires, they came very near sur- 
prising us, for we tui-ned back just in time to 
avoid beino- riddled bv Indian l)ullets. Thev 



142 



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18i9 — TWICE ACK08S THE PLAINS • — 185() 

tried to decoy U8 back ])\ building big fires, l)ut 
we preferred to warm ourselves b_v blazer 
kindled in our own camp, and so we returned 
to our friends. 

Tliis wa^ proljably a marauding band of Ore- 
gon Indians fed l)y white men, maybe Mormons, 
tliat had been preying on the emigrant trains 
ail the season, as we afterwards lieard of their 
depredations both beliind and in front of us. 
However, we were never again molested by such 
foes. 

At Gravelly Ford, a point about one hundred 
miles l)elow where the Indian fight occurred, we 
were met by my father, who had come from Cali- 
fornia with several saddle and pack horses to 
meet and assist us in crossing the mountains 
and deserts, and right glad, too, were we to see 
him and the sleek fat animals he brought with 
him. It had taken him some six weeks to make 
the journey from our lumu' to this point and he 
had nuule the tri]) aloiu'. It was a daring ven- 
ture for a num in those (hi\s to travel a distance 



145 



1849 TWICE ACROSS TILE PLAINS ■ 1850 

of iiioi'c than live Inindred miles without com- 
panions, crossing as he did tlie snowy ranges 
of the Sierra Xevada ^lountains, and the forty- 
five miles of a Ijarren, waterless desert. 

Tile hardships and privations that he endured 
and suffered during his lonely pilgrimage were a 
touching proof of the depth of his love for, and 
devotion to, his children, while the addition of 
the fresh horses so sorely needed to help lessen 
the burdens now l)()rne l)y our well-nigh worn 
out and exhausted stoek, was a great hh ssing 
to the whole coinpany and was much appre- 
ciated by all. 

A short distance from where my father met 
us the trail forks, one road turning to the north- 
west. This is the old Oregon trail, over which 
I traveled in 1849. Our course now was down 
the Humboldt to that desolate waste known as 
the Humboldt Sink. Into this great sandy basin 
flow the Huml)ol(lt, (-arson, Truckee, Walker 
and many smaller streams, all vanishing from 
the sight of man as their waters sink beneath the 



146 



1S4!) 'I'WICK ACKOSS TliK I'LAINS IST)!) 

sands. The desert in whieli this hasin is sitiiatrct 
l)egiiis alx'.iit one lunidred miles north ot the 
"Sink" and extends to the Moliave desert on the 
south, a distance of several luindred miles and is 
i'l'oni fifty to one hundred miles in width. At the 
mouth of the Hund)i)ldt there are several hun- 
dred acres covered with hulrushes and tuh» 
grasses, and here we found the lowest and most 
degraded type of human heings 1 have ever seen. 
Absolutely naked, they presented a most r^volt- 
iug appearance. I saw them eating the raw iiesli 
of ducks, their lips covered witli blood and down, 
and the scene was disgusting in the extreme. 1 
(\a\ not learn to what tribe they belonged and it 
is doubtful if they knew themselves. 

At this point we laid l)y for a few days to resL 
the oxen and make preparations for crossing 
the forcy-five miles of barren waterless desert on 
the edge of which we were then camped. Witb. 
enough cooked food to last us two days, full wa- 
ter kogs, and wagons stored with cut grass ol' 
poor (piality, but bettei' than n(Uie. we started 



149 



LS41) TWICE AC'lJOS,^ THE PLAINS — IST)!') 

just at noon. Tlie sand was dci]) and loose and 
onr ])i'()<i'i'('ss in eonso(|iienet' very slow, hut all 
the aftiM'iioon we ke})t goiii"". 

At niglitrali there was a halt (d' half an liour 
or so to rest and feed the cattle and then we 
])ushed on again. Kverv one that eouhl walk did 
so, in order to save the strength of our animals. 
At daylight there \vas another short interval of 
rest. The sun rose red as hlood and soon it he- 
eanie exceedingly hot. One and one-half niihs an 
hour was the host we conld do. X(n'th. south, 
east or west, not a spear of vegetation c(ud(l Ite 
seen. Only a great sea of hot sand on every 
side, the very ahoinination of desolation, and 
we the only living things in it. At no(ni another 
sto]) for a little while. Our ti'ain was scatt' red 
now. a distance of scn'eral miles separating liie 
first and last wagons in the line. Both men 
and ])easts were in great distress, many of the 
latter giving out altogefher. hut we ke]it on as 
hest we could with the remaining ones. Tlu" last 
five miles was the worst, hut at last just at sun- 



150 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185f) 

sot, after thirty liours of almost constant travel 
the stronger teams stood on the Ijanks of the 
Carson Eaver. I had noticed that the last ten 
miles of the i-oad was strewn with the carcasses 
of cattle, thousands of them lying where they 
had fallen and all al)out these the wreckage of 
wagons bore mute testimony to the fact that 
others beside ourselves had suifered. 

Resting a day or two we followed up th'_^ 
bank of Carson Kiver for several days and 
reached the foot of the Sierra Xevada Moun- 
tains. The stream now led us up through a can- 
yon where the great rocks and crags hung over 
us, their pinnacles so high above our heads that 
one almost had to look twice to see their tops. 
The road Ijccame so steep and rough that I can- 
not (lescril)e it. One can judge of the ditticultics 
we encountered in going over it when 1 sav it 
took us neai'ly a whole day to travel three mikv. 
But at last we were at the first summit and rest- 
ed for the night in Hope Valley. The next day 
we cros.<ed the second summit, an undertaking 



151 



1849 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAIXS 1856 

tliat gave us much troiil)lo, as we were compelled 
to hi tell twenty yoke of oxen to each wagon, one 
at a time, in order to get them over. But witli 
patient toil and care all were finally on the other 
side. What might have heun a serious accident 
occurred just on the to}) of the second summit. 
One of the little l)oys in the party, Jeff Hopper 
hy name, fell from one of tlie wagons and a whec4 
passed over his head and shoulder. Fortunately 
the wagon was a light one and had at the time 
little or no load on it and the little fellow suf- 
fered no serious injury. 

The atmosphere at this great altitude was 
delicious and invigorating and my heart leaped 
with joy as I l)eheld in the dim distance th? 
Coast Range mountains and realized that just 
back of them lay my home. 

Many glaciers were to l)e seen round about us 
in the heads of canyons, some of them covering 
many acres of ground and perhaps from fifty to 
one hundred i'wt deep. It was all wonderfullv 
intci'esting to nie. 



152 



1840 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS — 185^ 

What a change in the topograi)hy of the coun- 
try I A few days ago we were in the midst of 
a great waterless sandy desert, where no living 
thing, either vegetal)le or animal, could l)e seen. 
Here ])eaiitit'ul liowers. l)ahhling streams and 
magnificent forests were all a1)out ns. 

From now on my story is a simple one. 'With- 
in ten days our train stood on the l)anks of the 
then beautiful Sacramento Kiver. Xo need of 
weary quests for suitable camping grounds now. 
or l)urning deserts to cross, no dreary guard duty 
in drenching rains or midnight Indian alarms. 
But peace and quiet and rest under the hazy 
October sunlight in God's country. 

Two days more and we were at home, after 
five montlis and six days of travel. 

[ttte exd.] 



153 



THE TRAIN OF 1849 

Names of people who crossed the plains in 
the Pleasant Hill train in 1849 which started 
from Pleasant Hill, a snaall town in Cass 
County, Missouri: 

John Green 

]^H-. White 

Mrs. White 

Miss Lizzie White 

Bale Hicklin 

Mrs. Bale Hicklin 

Thomas More 

James Kusick 

Amos Ivusick (Black) 

Sam Kusick (Black) 

I sack Sparks 

Mat Sparks 

Henrv Sparks 

Hervey Sparks 
^ Eichard Sparks 

James Fleming 

David Fleming 

James Freeman 



155 



1849 TWICE ACMJOSS THE PLAINS — 18.5(5 

Jorrv Overstrcet 
Hardin Overstrcet 
George Overstrcet 
:\[r. Peaecx'k 
^Ir. ^rcKeniia 
Harrison Williams 
William Hopper 
Oren Dnrby 
Mr. Eeetor 
John Burris 
David Burris 
James ^l. Pleasants 
J. E. Pleasants 
W. J. Pleasants 
^Ir. Lyons 
Mr. Eaton, Sr. 
^>n\ Eaton, Jr. 
^Ir. Sinclair 
William Hcnsley 
Mid Story 
Emanuel ( Black ) 
John Kcarns 



156 



18J^9 TWICE ACK088 THE PLAINS 185(3 

Mr. K earns 

David Rice 

\A'illiam Ma.<sy 

Tom Fristo 

James Hamilton, Sr. 

James Hamilton, Jr. 

:\[ea. Hollen 

Hinrv Lawrenee 

Joliial C. Williams 

James Williams 

James Preston, Sr. 

James Preston. Jr. 

Sid Arnett 

John Arnett (Blaek) 

Mr. Idson 

Robert Slonn 

Old Tnele Diek Sloan (Blaek) 

Dr. McRevnolds 

David Myers 

John Myers 

Colonel Hann 

John Brisco. 



157 



-185G 



Charles Brisco 

John Lane 

Julious Iii^iilit 

Pret ]\[any()n 

James Cohlwell 

Sam Cohlwell 

William Parker. Sr. (Preaeliev) 

William Parker, Jr. 

Greenliery Parker 

Tom CMavton 

William Miller 

James Allen 

Andy Allen 

Sam Whiteman 

:\rr. Walker 

George Xoel 

Mr. Hatch 

.Airs. Hatch 

:\Iiss Dora Match 

:\riss Hatch 

Miss Hatch 

John Hatch 

James Keton 

158 



THE TRAIN OF 1856 



'J'lie naiiK's of men and bovs over ten yea^^^ of 
age wlio crossed the plains wit]i the writer in 
185G: 

William Ho])per and family 

Charles Hojiper and Tamily 

Benton lIo])per 

William Hopper 

Edward Ho})per 

James Hopper 

Jeff Hopper 

Mack Hopper 

Cohim1)iis Hopper 

John Bingham and family 

David Bnrris and sister 

Ike Isley 

Afatt Isley 

Tom Bnro'in 

Mai-ion Davidson ( now of Tkiah. ("al.) 

John 1^ Plnmmer (of Kentucky) 

Thomas ilar\('v IMeasants 



159 



LS40 TWICE ACROSS THE PLAINS 185() 

W. J. IMcasants and tlirt'c sisters 

liobert 11. lihea and family 

Talford Powell 

Jo] in Houx 

llahvrt C^ivott 

William 11. Wester 

Buck Barker 

Jolm Helm 

Jolm Farmer 

Holly Farmer 

Henry Burris 

Red John Tackot 

John Tacket 

Georg-e Foster and family, now of Ti'e- 
mont, Solano Co.. Cal. 



Siii 104. 



160 



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